Bleeding Roses
by NuitSansEtoiles
Summary: Many obstacles await two young lovers in their path of true love. But can they walk down the perilous path without falling into the deadly traps or without hitting a dead end? DHr
1. Two Broken Hearts

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for Danielle Thibault.  
  
A/N: This first chapter took me a while to write. But I'm glad I'm finally done!  
  
Chapter 1  
Two Broken Hearts  
  
The Hogwarts grounds were quiet and it didn't seem that anyone was present, lurking around with no apparent reason like the students normally did. A girl quickly descended the stairs that led in and out of Hogwarts Castle. The wind blew and her bushy brown hair flew back, freeing her tear- streaked face. She hugged her textbook tighter against her, trying to keep the little warmth she had. She ran toward the large oak tree near the lake and threw herself down on the grass, sobbing.  
  
Hermione Granger never considered herself pretty, nor did anyone tell her that she was pretty. Even at seventeen years of age, the Head Girl was somewhat flat-breasted and petite. She knew that she did have a curvy body although she hid it under layers of large, thick Hogwarts uniform. Her brilliant chestnut eyes were usually filled with happiness and her cheeks were generally flushed, but none of it applied today.  
  
Hermione picked up her book from the ground and started to read. She absolutely needed to study for the test next class. She couldn't afford to fail this test, since it counted for twenty percent of her total grade. She started reading, but she kept drifting out of focus. She tried hard to concentrate on the words in the textbook rather than Ron, but it seemed impossible. Come on, she thought desperately. Concentrate, you stupid brain! I need to learn this by next period! It was no use. She finally gave up and threw her book back on the ground and hugged her knees. Tears were leaking out of her eyes like streams, but she couldn't help it.  
  
"WHY?" she shouted at the top of her lungs to the sky. "Why me?" she added softly to herself.  
  
She stayed in that position for Merlin knows how long. She was shaking and cried until she had no more tears. She didn't even know when she drifted off to sleep.  
  
*****  
  
Draco Malfoy lied on the grass, looking up at the sky. He hated his life so much. His fellow Slytherins had all turned their backs on him, except for Pansy Parkinson who was after his money. Because he had backed down from being a Death Eater, they stopped admiring him. They called him a coward. They stopped talking him. They had stopped helping him whenever he needed help. The students of other Houses still paid no attention to him. In their minds are still etched the years of mistreatment that he took enormous pleasure in. It wasn't just his fellow schoolmates that had abandoned him, but his own family also. His father had been so furious that he performed the Cruciatus Curse on him five times in a row after beating him up. He had bruises everywhere as well as open-wounds. Maybe I should just end my life now, he thought bitterly. There was the lake. He could jump in. It's not like anyone's going to notice, he thought indignantly. Actually, they'll all be happy. There were all kinds of hostile creatures in the lake. They'll probably make his death easier. Or he could drown. Or maybe he could Avada Kedavra himself. It would be virtually painless. The idea seemed pleasing enough to him. Or maybe he could just stab himself. There would be a lot of blood, but he will make his point clear to any spectators. He was so enveloped in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the bushy haired girl running down the steps of the Hogwarts Castle. He noticed that he wasn't alone only when she started to cry her eyes out. Even though he couldn't bear the sound of crying, he didn't do anything. After all, it was Mudblood Granger.  
  
Although they had to work side by side and share the same common room for almost two months already, they still hadn't developed any kind of relationship, except the one they had for six years. Being Head Boy didn't make him feel any more willing to be with Hermione than before, so why worry about whether she was crying or not?  
  
Draco had observed that Hermione spent a lot of time in Gryffindor Tower visiting her oh-so-great boyfriend, Weasel. She only came back late every night to sleep. The very next morning, before he could even wake up, she had already gone down to breakfast with Scarhead and the Weasel. He wondered why she wasn't with them now. The bell rung from inside the castle and it marked the end of break. He jumped up and rushed to the castle, dragging his backpack behind. He shot a look at the innocent face of the sleeping Hermione. He almost wanted wake her up, but he didn't. As he burst into Professor Flitwick's class just in time before the second bell rang, he thought that maybe he ought to have woken her. It just didn't seem right not to.  
  
*****  
  
Hermione suddenly woke up, feeling someone shaking her. She dully opened her eyes to see a pair of emerald green ones staring at her. She jumped, but calmed down after she realized that it was her best friend, Harry Potter. She could see that he had been very worried about her. She smiled to reassure him and she could feel Harry's grip loosen around her shoulders.  
  
"Where were you last period?" Harry asked. "You missed Danielle's test!"  
  
Danielle Thibault was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who came from Beauxbatons. She was always very nice and understanding. Hermione just wished that Danielle would be understanding about her falling asleep while trying to study. And as a result, missed the whole period. She did not want a detention! She jumped up.  
  
"I missed the whole period?" she asked while slapping the grass off her robes. "Yes!" Harry nodded. "What were you doing?" "I fell asleep!" she answered. "I was trying to study, but I guess I was too tired."  
  
That was only part of the reason why she fell asleep. The other part, she didn't want to tell Harry. It was too painful. She almost cried again, but stopped her tears from flowing. She suspected that Harry knew about the second reason despite his impassive facial expression.  
  
"Herbology's cancelled," Harry said. "There was an accident in Greenhouse Four. Obviously, some kid thought it would be funny to drop a dung bomb in the Teeth of Vampire. You know that the plant hates any physical contact. Well, Professor Sprout is trying to sort everything out." "Good then. This leaves me time to go see Professor Thibault and tell her exactly what happened!" she said and ran toward the castle. "You know she likes to be called Danielle!" he called after her. "Whatever!" she called back as she waved her hand dismissively.  
  
When she entered Danielle's office, she saw that the teacher wasn't there. However, there was a note on the desk saying that she would be back in five minutes. Hermione took a seat on the comfortable armchair and looked around the office.  
  
It was by far the most comfortable office for seven years. There weren't any self-portraits like the days of Lockhart's reign over the office. There weren't any dark detectors when the imposter Moody lived there. They made her feel very disconcerted. There weren't any of the overly feminine objects and decorative items Umbridge had. Instead, the office's color scheme was warm colors. The walls were painted red. There were yellow coffee tables surrounded by orange couches and armchairs. Even though the colors were rather bright, they weren't blinding. It only brightened the otherwise dark room.  
  
Danielle came in. She was surprised to find Hermione sitting in front of the desk, looking around. She closed the door with a snap and Hermione jumped involuntarily. She smiled at her.  
  
Danielle was the youngest teacher at Hogwarts so far. She had fair skin that didn't seem to want to tan, which really frustrated her at times. Her straight golden blond hair rested gently on her shoulders. Her blue eyes were warm and carefree. She had a pointed chin and rosy lips. Her pointy nose and her high cheekbones accented her features.  
  
"Good afternoon Hermione," she said with a mild French accent, but Hermione thought that it was exotic. "Good afternoon Professor Thibault," Hermione replied politely. "Please call me Danielle," Danielle said. "If you insist," said Hermione. "I would like to know if there is any way I could make up the test that I missed." She blushed thinking about why she had missed it. "Of course!" Danielle's smile remained on her face. "Any time would be fine. When do you want to take it?" "Now," answered Hermione without hesitation. "Are you sure you are ready?" she asked. "Yes," the bushy haired girl said.  
  
She opened her file cabinet and took out a Muggle manila folder. She withdrew a piece of parchment paper and handed it to Hermione. Although Hermione felt slightly nervous because she hadn't really studied for the test during break, she felt pretty sure that she could ace it without too much problem. After all, she did stay up after one in the morning last night to study.  
  
Hermione pulled out an eagle feathered quill from her backpack and dipped it in the ink bottle. She scanned the questions briefly. There were fifty questions in total. Easy, she thought. Question number one. Who discovered the less common spell for blocking minor curses? Walter Invepell, the son of two Ministry workers, who wanted to gain fame above everything. He did get fame, but it was short lived, because the spell that the invented only had a fifty-fifty chance of being successful. Question number two. Why are some weaker spells more efficient than some powerful spells? The weaker spells need less energy than the powerful spells so the caster can put more magic in them. Sometimes, the powerful spells would consume the caster if he or she is too weak. One by one, Hermione answered the entire test questions.  
  
"Done." She handed the parchment to Danielle and replaced her quill and ink bottle in her backpack. "All right," said Danielle. "You will get it back next class, like the other students." "Thank you Professor." She stood up and straightened her robes.  
  
As she exited the classroom, she felt much more confident than before she took the test. Sighing pleasantly, she descended the main Hogwarts stairs again, hoping to rejoin Harry and discuss the couple test questions that she wasn't as confident about. In the middle of the grassy field, she stopped abruptly. Her happiness vanished at once. Harry wasn't alone. He was joking and talking with...  
  
Ron.  
  
Ron was the first one to look up and see her. He immediately lowered his head, looking away. Hermione felt her tears coming back. Harry, obviously noticing the tension, saw Hermione too. He waved. Hermione turned on her heel and ran to the opposite direction, ignoring Harry's calls behind her.  
  
She felt her tears flying behind her as she ran back toward the castle. Her vision was blurred. She found it amazing to have walked up the steps of the castle without tripping once. Sobbing, she bumped into someone in the Entrance Hall. She didn't even look up to see who it was.  
  
"Watch it Granger!" the angry voice yelled.  
  
She recognized the voice that belonged to the person she wanted to see least at the moment. It was none other than Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Sorry," she muttered and ran to the library, no real intention in mind, except crying.  
  
Draco felt confused. She didn't even insult him. Before she turned her head around, he had glimpsed at her face and understood that she was too preoccupied to come up with an insult to throw at him. Her face was shining with tears. However, he had no idea why she was crying and followed her out of simple curiosity.  
  
He made sure to stay at a distance from her. Midway, he realized that she was heading to the library. Nobody would be there at this hour. Everyone was outside, taking classes, or in their common rooms. Before entering the library, he stood outside and watched her take a seat in the corner, weeping. He strolled in casually, looking around and hiding his true intentions. He finally decided that it wasn't going to lead him anywhere and decided that it was best to talk to her.  
  
"Granger," he said. "Go away Malfoy," she snapped. "What's wrong?" he asked, trying to sound less cold. "None of your business," Hermione said angrily. "Now GO AWAY!" "Not until you tell me what's wrong," he said. Why am I being so caring all of a sudden to a Mudblood? He thought. "Leave me alone!" Hermione said menacingly. "Fine!" Draco said, feeling himself again. "You are nothing but a filthy little Mudblood anyway! Why should I care about you? I don't know WHAT came over me."  
  
He turned and was just about to walk away that a small voice made him stop.  
  
"Ron broke up with me," Hermione said between sobs. "Isn't that what you wanted to know? Now go away!" "I don't take orders from Mudbloods," he said and sat down. "Why?" The question came as a surprise and she was confused. "Because you think you are better than Mudbloods, of course," she said trying to sound confident. Draco laughed. "I meant, why did he break up with you?" Hermione felt herself blushing furiously. "He said that it was better just to be friends." "That's it?" Draco asked, disappointed because he thought there was going to be something juicy. "Yeah..." Hermione sunk down in her chair. "Why do you ask?" "Curiosity," he said and stood up.  
  
He left, leaving Hermione very confused at what just happened. They just had a somewhat civilized conversation. How did that happen? The shock and confusion drove Ron completely out of Hermione's mind. Instead, her thoughts were all on Draco. 


	2. A Detention and a Visit

Chapter 2  
A Detention and A Visit  
  
Even though Herbology was cancelled, Double Potions certainly wasn't, much to the Gryffindors' disgust. Traditionally, the class was shared with the nasty Slytherins. Hermione arrived first outside of the door, waiting for Harry, Snape, and the rest of the class. Not to her surprise, Harry arrived with someone less welcome. Ron. She stared determinedly at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact with Ron. The truth was, if she looked at Ron, she would cry again. The Slytherins were already arriving. There was no way she would ever let them see her cry.  
  
"Hi Hermione," Harry said more cheerfully that he had planned, which sounded oddly fake.  
  
"Well hello Harry," Hermione said, trying to keep her voice steady.  
  
Snape had arrived. He opened the door and Hermione rushed in, before Harry and Ron. She took her usual seat, took out her book, quill, and parchment paper. Harry came in first, sitting next to her. Ron sat on the other side of Harry and Hermione was very grateful that he did so. She wouldn't be able to bear having to sit next to Ron. Harry was making very forced conversation. Both answered normally, but refused to look at each other, let alone talk.  
  
"Settle down," Snape barked at the class and the class became dead silent. "Today, we're going to make a very complicated potion that I have reasonable doubt that some of you will fail miserably." He glanced at Neville, who squirmed. "It is the Draught of the Living Dead. It is not to be confused with the Draught of Living Death. This is a very dangerous potion that should not be meddled with. It is a potion that can revive the Dead. If you are not careful and don't follow my directions, you will face consequences worse than that of expulsion." With a wave of his wand, Snape had directions on the chalkboard. No one, not even Hermione, had seen so complicated a potion. "You must follow the directions exactly as it says or you will either kill a living thing, or worse, you will reverse the Dead with the Living and vice versa. Some of you dunderheads might be wondering why I am making you concoct a potion that revives the Dead. If you work for the Ministry, sometimes, you must revive some of the Dead to interrogate them. However, the Dead can only stay alive for one hour and they cannot be revived again once they had taken the draught. So time is precious."  
  
"We're reviving the Dead?" Harry asked in a low whisper to Hermione. "Isn't this necromancy? The worst Dark Magic there is?"  
  
"It is," Hermione said. "What is Snape playing at?"  
  
"We're learning Dark Magic here!" Harry said.  
  
"Maybe it's because this is a N.E.W.T. class..." Hermione said. "Maybe we need to know some things like this."  
  
"Why are you defending Snape?" Harry asked. "I mean maybe it can be useful, but we can't—"  
  
Harry never got to finish his sentence because Snape had strolled over, his face contorted into a nasty and triumphant smirk.  
  
"My, my," he said, his smirk widening. "Talking in class, are we? Fifty points from Gryffindor. Maybe you need a change of seats too..."  
  
"What?" Harry shouted indignantly. "Fifty? Fifty? And a change of seats? Are you mad?"  
  
Snape's smirk faded. "Detention Potter," he said in a very nasty voice. "Tomorrow five o'clock sharp."  
  
Harry opened his mouth as if to shout more, but nothing came out.  
  
"You can't do that!" Ron shouted.  
  
"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, Weasley," Snape said, shooting Ron a dark look. "Now, why don't you, Ms. Granger, switch seats with Ms. Parkinson?"  
  
Hermione looked where Pansy Parkinson was sitting and her jaw dropped. It was right next to Malfoy! Draco looked over and saw that he had to sit next to Hermione; he shot her a very dirty look. Pansy didn't look happy at all either. It was common knowledge that she had a huge crush on Draco. However, they didn't have a choice besides changing seats.  
  
Hermione picked up her book, parchment, and quill and thrust them into her backpack angrily. One of these days... she thought, justice will be done to Snape. Pansy was already waiting for her, looking very annoyed. She picked up her backpack and swung it behind her, kicking her cauldron toward Pansy's old seat. She threw her backpack on the floor and sat as far from Draco as possible, who inched away. She glanced back at Harry and he gave her a sympathetic look. Facing forward, she ignored the repulsive looks Draco gave her.  
  
"I can't believe I'm to sit next to a Mudblood for the rest of the school year!" Draco whispered to her threateningly.  
  
"You're saying it like I wanted to sit here!" Hermione whispered back.  
  
"Of all people! A Mudblood!" he said exasperatedly.  
  
"Well I'm sorry I can't choose who I am!" she snapped. "Deal with it!"  
  
"Miss Granger," Snape said, "I did not reassign your seat for you to talk to Mr. Malfoy. Ten points from Gryffindor."  
  
Hermione opened her mouth indignantly, but decided it wasn't worth it. Gryffindor had already lost sixty points in five minutes. However, she couldn't help but notice Draco's smirk. She shot him the darkest look she could muster. Instead of erasing that smirk from Draco's face, Draco's face split into a wide grin, and he shook with silent laughter.  
  
Hermione looked around on her desk and her eyes landed on her quill. She picked it up. A small smile playing at the corners of her lips, she eyed her quill as a sudden idea immerged. She jammed the tip of her quill into the back of Draco's hand. Draco stopped laughing at once and let out a rather high-pitched shriek. Hermione watched satisfactorily as bright red blood ran down his hand and his fingers to drop on his lap. However, her joy was soon to be ended. Snape looked livid.  
  
"Detention Ms. Granger!" he barked and a few people jumped. "Tonight—eight—o'clock—my—office..." he seemed to be forcing his words out through gritted teeth. "And you Mr. Malfoy!" Draco looked up from bandaging his wound using his tie. "Why did you let her do that to you? Detention! Same time, same place!"  
  
Draco's jaw dropped. He had always thought that he was Snape's favorite student! How could Snape give him a detention? And for something so stupid? Before he could say anything, Snape had already turned away. For the rest of the class, the Head Boy and Girl ignored each other, silently brewing their potion like nothing had happened, though their faces were bright red.  
  
In the Great Hall, Hermione ate her dinner slowly and quietly, almost calmly, but Harry could see that her hands shook. She was halfway through her baked potato when she threw her fork down with a loud CLANK. She rose and muttered something about going to take a nap before disappearing through the double doors.  
  
Harry glanced at Ron, who seemed suddenly absorbed by the few peas on his plate and didn't look up. Ron's ears were red though. Harry sighed. He got up and ran to catch up with Hermione. When he called out her name, she only picked up her pace and ignored him. Eventually, they were running, one after the other. Hermione got to her Head common room, said the password, and got in, slamming the door in Harry's face. Harry sighed again. He shouted a bit more, but there was no response besides the noise of a glass shattering. Harry took this as his cue to leave before getting his skull cracked open, and he went back to the Great Hall, to finish his dinner.  
  
Hermione buried her head in a pillow on the couch. She felt like crying, but no tears came out. She didn't know why she felt so angry with Harry, since he didn't do anything to her, but she wasn't thinking clearly. The reasoning part of her brain seemed to be clouded and blurred. She turned over and stared at the blindingly white ceiling. Snape was so unfair! Malfoy was such a spoiled little git! Now, she even has to serve detention with him! Ron... oh, how she'd like to put her hands around his neck and strangle him! He's the one who made her so miserable! If he hadn't broken up with her, she'd still be happy, and detention-free. She groaned in frustration. How bad can the day get? Oh A LOT worse, knowing Snape, her conscience told her. What time is it? Somewhere in the back of her brain, she wondered vaguely. Oh who cares? She thought, but nevertheless, she checked the grandfather clock up against the wall. It was five minutes to eight. She sighed and stood up. Better go serve her detention now.  
  
When she arrived at Snape's dungeon, where his office also was, Draco was already sitting in a chair, his chin resting on his hands. Snape was pacing around in his office, glancing at the clock on the wall. Hermione sat in a chair farthest from Draco and waited for Snape.  
  
"Now that you are all here,"—he shot a dark look at Hermione—"you can start your detention. For this task, I will need you two to cooperate. You are to go to the library and research the antidote for the Sleeping Death Curse and make it. You should return the potion to me in a month from now. It better be correct, because I will be testing it on you," he added nastily.  
  
Neither Hermione, nor Draco uttered a word as they walked to the library. But why did Snape want an antidote for the Sleeping Death Curse? Hermione knew that the Curse puts people to such a deep sleep that they cannot be awoken. Some of these "sleepers" were mistaken for dead and buried. They can never be awoken unless they drank this antidote. But very few people knew how to make them. Hermione didn't even know what the antidote required. Well, that was what research was for. They had a month. It was enough time to brew a potion! Well, at least, she hoped.  
  
Arrived at the library, they chose a table at the shadowy corners, afraid to be seen with each other. Hermione took out her quill and parchment, and saw Draco do the same. Still not speaking, they walked over to the shelves. Hermione arrived at the Curses section and ran her finger down the spines of the thick volumes. After a while, she finally found a large book that she thought might be useful. Sleeping Curses by Pyanor Orgden... She pulled the book from the shelf and walked on, looking for more books. She stopped near a book, Death and Sleep (The Difference and the Spells) by Seymour Jancks. The two books were already heavy in her arms, and she decided to set them down and start her research. She propped open Death and Sleep on the desk, and began taking notes, as Draco settled down at the table.  
  
Sleep and Death are sometimes confounded, she wrote, especially when the Sleeping Curse is a very strong one. The Sleeping Death Curse is a curse developed by Willard Wendall who took advantage of the confusion of Sleep and Death. This Curse makes the victim plunge into a deep sleep, never to be awoken again, unless given the antidote.  
  
Then the book went on about an entirely different spell. Well this is useless now, she thought. Putting the book aside, she went through the index of the second book. Not finding what she was looking for, she set the book aside. Then, Draco let out a small cry.  
  
"What?" Hermione asked. "Did you find anything?"  
  
"Thanks to me," he said, "we can already start with the potion!" He smirked at her smugly. Hermione had the urge to smack him across his face as hard as she could, but restrained herself from doing so.  
  
Draco turned the book toward her. There it was: the whole list of ingredients and exactly how to brew to antidote! Hermione looked at Draco, who was still smirking.  
  
"How did you find this?" she asked.  
  
"You are not the only one who frequents the library, you know," he answered, his grin unwavering. "How else could I have become Head Boy?"  
  
"I call it luck and bribery," Hermione said coldly.  
  
"Call it whatever you want Granger, but I call it pure genius," he said.  
  
"That's so modest of you!" she said sarcastically.  
  
"I know." Draco grinned wider.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and began copying from the book. She was worried. She wouldn't be able to find many of the ingredients even from Snape's personal store, let alone the student cupboard! And the directions were clear, yes, but they would have to be extremely careful and take everything slowly. She pointed out the ingredients that were difficult to obtain to Draco, but he seemed rather unconcerned.  
  
"There are some we can get at Diagon Alley," he said. "And others, I'm sure we will be able to get it from the Forbidden Forest." The corner of his mouth twitched at the mention of the Forbidden Forest, but Hermione pretended not to notice.  
  
"Are we allowed to go to Diagon Alley though?" she asked.  
  
"This is schoolwork so I can't see why not," he said.  
  
"Do we need to report back to Snape?" she asked, packing her things.  
  
"He didn't say we had, did he?" Draco replied. "No, I guess not," she sighed. "Let's go."  
  
They both left the library and headed toward their Head quarters. The moment she entered, she saw a large plate of food on the table. Curious, she walked over and saw the note that lay by it. It said:  
  
Hermione,  
  
You didn't eat much at dinner today, so I just thought you might be hungry. Against her will, her stomach growled. I told Dobby to deliver it to you and I hope he did. Enjoy the food!  
  
Harry  
  
Hermione couldn't help but smile at Harry's thoughtfulness. She picked up the fork beside the large porcelain plate, and carried the plate of food to the table by the fireplace. She sat down on a comfortable red armchair and dug in. She ate so fast that she barely tasted the food in her mouth. When she finished, she took a large book from the couch beside her—she had left it there the previous night—and started to read.  
  
Draco dug into his backpack and took out his textbook and a long roll of parchment. He also retrieved his quill and inkbottle from his backpack. Reading a passage from the book, he started to write his History of Magic essay.  
  
They both worked in silence for the next two hours, completely ignoring each other. They were used to this. Since none of them were really talkative, this suited them both fine. Between them, there was nothing to say anyway. At around eleven o'clock, Draco stretched and yawned. Putting his things back into his backpack, he walked lazily to the bathroom he shared with Hermione.  
  
The first thing that came into his view was a large mirror that stood over two sinks. He stared at the reflection he knew so well. The first thing he noticed was that he looked really tired. I should really go to sleep now, he thought, or I would look like Frankenstein's creature tomorrow morning. He yawned again. There wasn't as much gel in his platinum blond hair by this time and a few locks fell over his gray eyes, making him look, well... quite nice. His thin, rosy lips stretched slightly into a half-smile. His look made him have so many girls chasing after him, but he wasn't exactly sure he liked the feeling of never being able to breathe some fresh air, nor... have any real friends who liked him for him. He sighed.  
  
Draco picked up his toothbrush and brushed his teeth. Then, he took a quick shower. After drying himself with his black towel, he put on his silk boxers and a T-shirt. He almost screamed when he saw Hermione waiting for him outside the door, looking very impatient.  
  
"Glad that you finally decided to stop admiring yourself in the mirror," she said coldly. "What do you see in yourself anyway?"  
  
"Oh many things," he said, smirking. "Devilish handsomeness, great intellect, great—"  
  
Hermione interrupted him. "That was a rhetorical question," she said.  
  
"But I thought it would do you some good to know," he said.  
  
"Yeah right," she said sarcastically and rolled her eyes.  
  
"I'm still available... well, for now anyway," he said.  
  
"Like I would ever want to be with you," she said. "But did you count your little girlfriend, Parkinson?"  
  
He stopped smirking. "What about your boyfriend, the Weasel-King?"  
  
Hermione felt her eyes stinging and turned her face away from him. "I already told you. We broke up."  
  
"Right," he said and left. He felt satisfied that he touched the spot where it hurt the most, but somewhere in his heart, he felt sorry for her and he cursed himself for making her so miserable when she already was. He pushed the latter as far from him as possible. He wasn't about to feel guilty because of a little thing like that.  
  
He lifted the smooth, comfortable covers from his bed and slid under them, feeling the cold sheets below. He shivered ever so slightly, but soon, he felt comfortable. Several minutes later, he could already feel himself drifting into unconsciousness, but a hiccup from the room on the other side of the Head quarters made him fully awake again. Cursing, he opened his eyes and stared at the clock. It was twelve fifteen. Falling back on his bed, he tried to sleep once again, but found that he couldn't. Someone was crying in the other room. Hermione.  
  
"Damn you Granger!" he whispered. "Some people are actually trying to sleep here!"  
  
He got up and walked over to the Head Girl's room to see what was going on. The door was left ajar so he pushed it fully open. Hermione was in her nightgown, her face hidden in the pillow. Her bushy hair was a mess and she was gripping onto the pillow like her life depended on it. She was crying and hiccupping at the same time. Draco couldn't help but feel sorry for her this time. Even if he was feeling anything else, the pity was drowning all of the other emotions.  
  
"Granger," he said. "GO AWAY MALFOY!" she yelled. "EVERYTHING'S ALL YOUR FAULT! I HATE YOU!"  
  
"How is it my fault?" He was starting to feel a little indignant.  
  
"YOU ARE AN INCONSIDERATE PRAT! YOU CARE ABOUT NO ONE BUT YOURSELF!" Hermione yelled. "YOU KNEW EXACTLY WHY I WAS HURT AND WHERE IT HURT THE MOST, BUT YOU JUST HAD TO SAY IT, DIDN'T YOU? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU WILL NEVER LET AN OPPORTUNITY TO THROW AN INSULT AT ME PASS YOU BY! YOU DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ANYTHING OR ANYONE BUT YOURSELF! WHY DON'T YOU JUST GO AND MARRY YOURSELF?"  
  
This hit him harder than he expected. Although he didn't want to admit it, he knew that it was the truth. His conscience made sure that he wouldn't be thinking otherwise.  
  
"Look Granger," he said, "I... I... didn't... mean it."  
  
Silence. Even her crying seemed to have softened.  
  
He swallowed and continued, "I was just... trying to get... get back at you for... for saying that I... I liked Pansy... I'm... I'm... I'm..." He just couldn't bring himself to say it.  
  
Hermione sat up and faced him. He walked over to her bed, but it was rather difficult since his legs seemed to be unable to work properly. He propped himself on the bed. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth...  
  
"I'm sorry," he finally blurted out.  
  
There was a pause. Hermione just stared, but Draco wished that she wouldn't. It made him feel even more awkward than he already was. He just wasn't taught to apologize to "Mudbloods". That was a true psychological battle that he had just fought, but Hermione didn't even say anything to show that she heard him, let alone be grateful!  
  
Suddenly, Hermione's head fell on Draco's shoulders and she started sobbing again. Draco, not used to this kind of things, reached out a shaking hand and patted her on the back, not knowing what he should do. For a few minutes, they remained that way, taken to a world where thinking was optional.  
  
When Hermione finally stopped crying and lifted her head up, her eyes caught Draco's and she couldn't tear them away from his silvery orbs. She wanted to say something, but she didn't need to. Their eyes said everything instead. She was grateful that he had lent her a shoulder to cry on (literally), even though she wasn't sure whether it was intentional or he just simply didn't have a choice. "Thanks..." Hermione muttered. "Thanks for being here for me."  
  
"Well, don't get used to it," he said rather coldly.  
  
He stood up and left the room, leaving Hermione as confused as ever. 


	3. Diagon Alley

Chapter 3  
Diagon Alley  
  
"Hey!" a voice cried behind Hermione as she headed for History of Magic the next morning. "Hey Hermione!"  
  
Hermione turned around to see Harry running after her, shoving a few people out of the way and getting quite a lot of glares. She stopped walking, waiting for Harry to catch up.  
  
"Good morning," Hermione said when Harry arrived by her side.  
  
"Good morning!" Harry said cheerfully. "Did you sleep well?"  
  
Hermione arched an eyebrow and tried to conceal the small smile that was creeping up her face. "I did," she said.  
  
"Good!" Harry nodded. "So... did you get the food I had Dobby send you last night?"  
  
"Oh! Yes Harry." She smiled. "That was really thoughtful of you!" What is he up to though? Hermione wondered. "I'm sure that's not really what you wanted to talk to me about."  
  
Harry sighed. "You're right," he said and swallowed visibly. "I wanted to talk to you about... well... your... severing of ties with... Ron. I know it hurts and everything, but... you guys are my best friends and... I don't want to see you guys, well... hating each other or something."  
  
She stopped smiling. "So you want me to talk to him," she said, already knowing his reply.  
  
Harry nodded. "I mean... you guys shouldn't be... angry with each other forever! I really hate to see you guys not... not talking anymore..."  
  
"Did he tell you to say this?" she asked, a little angry. "Is he too scared to come up to me and tell me this himself?"  
  
"No," Harry said hastily, "it was all me."  
  
"Sure," she said sarcastically.  
  
"So will you do it? For me?"  
  
Hermione heaved a sigh. "Sure whatever, but only if he cooperates."  
  
"He will."  
  
Without realizing it, they had already walked outside of Binns's classroom. They entered along with the other students. Harry took a seat by Ron, but Hermione hesitated. She finally decided to sit in front of them both. She wasn't sure why she took History of Magic as one of her N.E.W.T. classes, but she took all of the N.E.W.T. classes available. A challenge was always fun for Hermione.  
  
She took out her parchment, book, and quill, waiting for Binns to appear so that she could start taking valuable notes. Binns appeared out of the blackboard as usual, but this time, he wasn't carrying a book, much to Hermione's bewilderment. Another unusual thing was that he looked particularly happy today. No doubt the other students, even Harry and Ron, noticed the change.  
  
"We have no lectures today!" Binns announced to the class. Everyone looked at each other, confused. Did someone possess Binns's body... or ghost? "We are starting a new class project that will be completed in about five classes. In groups of three, you must write a report on a famous witch or wizard. When I call your group, please come forward and draw a name from the hat on my desk. You must write the report on that person. I will not be assigning groups, so feel free to be with anyone you want. Also, please note that I trust that you will do your research in the library as your homework. Any questions before we begin? Yes, Mr. Thompson?"  
  
"How long does the report have to be?" Dean Thomas asked.  
  
"As long as you need to make it so that everything about this person, especially his or her accomplishments, are included," Binns answered.  
  
A few people groaned, but Binns was oblivious to that. "Any other questions?" he asked. He looked around the room, but nobody had their hand up. "All right then. Get into your groups."  
  
Hermione bit her bottom lip and turned around, facing Harry and Ron. "As usual?" she asked, her voice somewhat squeaky.  
  
"Of course!" Harry answered cheerfully. "We're all best friends"—he looked at Ron and Hermione—"remember?"  
  
Ron gave a curt nod, but Hermione didn't answer. She was looking out of the window, avoiding their gazes.  
  
"Hermione," Harry said, "why don't you write down our names on a piece of paper? You have the best handwriting."  
  
Hermione obliged and wrote down hers and Harry's names in her neat script. She paused at Ron's name, but finally, scribbled down his name. She took it up front to Binns. When she came back to her seat, she tried to ignore Harry, who kept giving her glances. She knew that he wanted her to talk to Ron, but she ignored his hints.  
  
"I think Neville's got a new Remembrall," Harry said. "I'll go check it out while you guys, well... sit here."  
  
He stood up and went over to Neville's desk. Hermione sighed. She really had no choice, did she? She coughed slightly to get Ron's attention.  
  
"Ron," she said. "I know this hurts the both of us, but... we can't carry on like this anymore."  
  
"I...um...guess," he said.  
  
"We're probably not meant for each other," she said, "and I totally accept that!"  
  
"Me too," he replied. "We're friends! We... have to move on! We can't let this destroy our... our whole friendship!"  
  
"We should pick things up again, don't you think?" she said.  
  
"Yes," Ron said and leaned closer. "What horrible thing did Snape make you do on the detention that you didn't deserve?"  
  
"It's horrible! I have to make an antidote with Malfoy! And it's going to take a whole month!"  
  
"What? Extra Ferret Boy and the Human Grease Ball for a whole month?"  
  
Hermione laughed. She actually laughed at Ron's joke. It was a soft, short laugh, but it was still a laugh! It was like everything was back to normal! Or maybe it was... Ron was very cooperative... Her thoughts landed on Harry. The liar, she thought. This was definitely planned. But she decided to get him later.  
  
"Yes!" Hermione said. "I even have to go to Diagon Alley and the Forbidden Forest to get ingredients with Malfoy!"  
  
"Forbidden Forest with Malfoy?" Ron chuckled. "He'd probably be so scared that he'd jump in your arms when he hears the Forbidden Forest being mentioned!"  
  
"Gross!" Hermione made a disgusted face. "Why would I want to touch that slimy git?" The image of last night flashed in her mind, but she pushed it away. No way! That was an accident, she thought. It didn't mean anything.  
  
"I have to agree," Ron said and gave an overdramatic shudder. They both didn't see that Harry had arrived again.  
  
"So you guys fixed the problems between you?" Harry asked.  
  
"What problems?" Ron asked pleasantly and Hermione smiled.  
  
Binns started to call names. He got through quite a few when he finally got to Hermione's group. Hermione walked up to Binns's desk. On top was a bowler hat, quite like the one Fudge had. It had hideous blue and maroon stripes. Hermione put her hand inside and withdrew a piece of parchment. She hoped that it was someone that she didn't know a lot about already. She unfolded the paper and the neat print read:  
  
Loup Malfoy  
  
A Malfoy? Nothing clicked in her mind like whenever she saw the name of a famous person. Who was he? What did a Malfoy accomplish that is memorable? Was he related to that git of a Draco Malfoy? She walked back to her seat, confused.  
  
"Who is it?" Harry asked.  
  
"Loup Malfoy," Hermione answered, still not taking her eyes off the parchment.  
  
"What?" Ron asked incredulously. "I am not doing my report on him!"  
  
"You have to, Ron," Hermione said.  
  
"You know this Loup Malfoy?" Harry asked.  
  
"You can say that." Ron was fuming. "He was the one who started all this pureblood craze. He was the one who invented the words 'Sang de Bourbe', or 'Mudblood'."—Ron's ears turned red—"He was also the one who tricked my ancestors to bankruptcy!"  
  
This was too much information for both Harry and Hermione. Hermione's jaw dropped and Harry was staring at Ron with wide eyes. Loup Malfoy was the reason a lot of the purebloods thought that they were better than everyone else? He invented the word "Mudblood"? He caused the bankruptcy of the Weasleys?  
  
"When did he live?" Harry asked.  
  
"Dad reckons it's sometime in the fifteenth century," Ron answered, "but he's not positive."  
  
The Weasleys were poor for over five centuries? At once, Hermione felt so sorry for Ron. What a horrible man that Loup Malfoy was! Her thoughts were interrupted when the bell rang. She quickly packed her things and exited the classroom, still thinking about the bastard. He was the reason why some people in the Wizarding community always looked at her in a strange way. That man was the reason why some people always thought that she was inferior to them. He was the reason why she had to endure verbal abuse from people like Draco Malfoy. He was the reason for so many bad things that are happening in the world. Hatred flared in Hermione's heart. This report was going to be very long.  
  
The Golden Trio sat in their Transfiguration class, trying to turn their partners into either a cat or a dog. It was like the old times again. Hermione and Ron were getting along fine, except that they were bickering about Hermione's cat again. Ron had told her that as long as she didn't turn him into Crookshanks, he was fine with whatever Hermione decides with. Hermione had asked why and Ron had told her that the cat was too ugly. And as usual, Hermione jumped to Crookshanks's defense. And also as usual, they bickered incessantly. Everything had been settled when Hermione turned Ron into an adorable orange kitten, earning Gryffindor House twenty points.  
  
However, a rapping on the door, which was quite unusual in any of McGonagall's classes, had interrupted the class. When the professor had opened the door, a girl, and second year by the looks of her, had requested for Hermione's presence in the Headmaster's office. Confused, Professor McGonagall had complied. That was why Hermione was walking along the familiar corridor to the Headmaster's office now.  
  
"Sugar quills," she said when she arrived in front of the ugly stone gargoyle. It came to life and stepped aside to let an elegant spiral staircase to enter Hermione's vision. Being a Head Girl certainly has its advantages, she thought as she stepped on a stair and let it carry her up to Dumbledore's office. In front of the door, she knocked.  
  
"Ah, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said as he opened the door. "I was expecting you. Come inside and make yourself comfortable."  
  
"Thank you Headmaster," Hermione replied, stepping inside. She stopped in mid-step, seeing who was there. Malfoy. She just couldn't get away from him, could she?  
  
Dumbledore smiled, seeing her expression. "Don't worry," he said. "This meeting will only take a few minutes."  
  
Hermione certainly hoped so as she took a seat on the chair next to Malfoy.  
  
"Professor Snape had just informed me of the content of your detention," he said. Please no lectures, Hermione thought. However, Dumbledore continued, "Professor Snape had also informed me that it seems that you must go to Diagon Alley and the Forbidden Forest to obtain the complete set of ingredients required for the antidote that you are making."  
  
"It is correct, sir," Hermione said.  
  
"As you might know," he said, "Hogsmeade weekend is this week. Instead of going there, you two may spend the day at Diagon Alley to buy your supplies. You may go to the Forbidden Forest the following day, Sunday, or any time you wish, as long as it is within curfew and you are not missing your duties as Head Boy and Girl."  
  
"How are we going to go to Diagon Alley, sir?" Draco asked.  
  
"Come to my office in the morning and I will give you a portkey," Dumbledore answered. "Any other questions?"  
  
Hermione shook her head and Draco remained silent.  
  
"All right then." Dumbledore smiled. "You may go."  
  
They left together, not speaking to each other. After they went out of the opening behind the gargoyle, they ended up going in the same direction. Their pace was the same, so it looked as if they were walking together. A third year hurried past them, looking at them strangely.  
  
"We still hate each other!" Hermione shouted behind him. "Stupid kids..." she muttered under her breath.  
  
"You didn't feel that way last night," Draco said abruptly.  
  
"I shouldn't have let that happen," Hermione said.  
  
"But you did," he retorted.  
  
"Why did you hold me so close then, huh?" she asked.  
  
"I was giving a donation to charity," he answered curtly. "Bet you enjoyed that didn't you?"  
  
"Malfoy, you...!" Before she got to finish her sentence, he had already quickened his pace and left with a swish of his cloak.  
  
"I'll see you Saturday!" she shouted after him, her voice in mock excitement.  
  
"I can't wait!" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but he didn't turn back.  
  
Before she could add her own sarcasm, he had already turned a corner and disappeared from her sight. Little bastard, she thought. She didn't know why, but she had been a little hurt when he said that the hug was a "donation to charity". Whatever. She shook the thoughts from her head. Suddenly, "having feelings for Malfoy" popped into her head.  
  
"No, no, no," she said to herself. "No, no, no. That's gross. That's just wrong."  
  
Slightly calmed down, she walked back to her Transfiguration class, seeing that Harry and Ron were practicing, and it was Ron's turn. He only arrived to give Harry whiskers, making Harry scream out as he felt his face. Hermione chuckled and took out her wand. She performed the spell himself on Harry and he became a sleek black cat. Ron looked at his own wand rather stupidly. Hermione laughed out loud and just then, Ron saw her and smiled. She joined them, and had fun turning each other into dogs... or at least Hermione did. Harry and Ron's spells were always incomplete, making their animal selves look mutilated. Nevertheless, it was one of the first fun Transfiguration classes they had ever had. Hermione completely forgot about her previous thoughts about Malfoy.  
  
With dread, Hermione awakened on Saturday, as a bright ray of sunlight touched her face. She groaned. She wanted to sleep and avoid going to Diagon Alley with Malfoy, but oversleeping wouldn't work as an excuse, since she slept early last night. She got up, pulled her hangings apart, and stretched. Every minute that she cleaned up and dressed, she was getting closer to her meeting with Malfoy, which was bound to be awful. Joining the rest of the school for breakfast, she only drank a goblet of pumpkin juice and headed straight for Dumbledore's office. Might as well get this over with quickly, she thought.  
  
She was a little early as she entered Dumbledore's office. Malfoy wasn't even there yet and Dumbledore was just setting up the portkey, which turned out to be an empty can of Coke.  
  
"Good morning Ms. Granger." Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"Morning," she muttered.  
  
"I believe Mr. Malfoy will be here soon," he said.  
  
"Great," she replied sarcastically.  
  
"You might even enjoy each other's company," he said, as his eyes twinkled. "You do have a few things in common."  
  
Hermione widened her eyes in shock. "I mean no disrespect, sir, but... how did you ever get that idea? We have nothing in common! Even if we did, then it's just a meaningless coincidence."  
  
"As you say Ms. Granger," he said, smiling.  
  
What in the world does he mean by all that? Hermione wondered. Then, much to Hermione's displeasure, Draco entered the room, sneering at Hermione. She gave him a deathly glare. Dumbledore watched this silent exchange with amusement.  
  
"You have arrived Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said pleasantly. He held out the can for them to take. "Your portkey..."  
  
Hermione took one end and Draco took the other end. They made sure that their fingers were as far away as possible from the other's fingers. They glared at each other and both grabbed the can more tightly than necessary, which resulted in small dents on the aluminum. Suddenly, the portkey began to work and they both felt a familiar tug behind their navel as they traveled in a swirl of colors. Hermione closed her eyes firmly, hoping that she wouldn't get sick. A car was much more comfortable, even if it did take a while. Just as suddenly as they lifted off the ground, their feet were pulled down by gravity once again. Hermione stumbled slightly as she landed and opened her eyes. The crowded Diagon Alley and its strips of shops came into view.  
  
"Very convenient," Draco said. "We landed right outside of the Apothecary."  
  
Hermione looked up at the store next to her and saw that he was right. "Dumbledore probably knew that we'd kill each other if we stay here too long," she said.  
  
"I won't resist the temptation," he said.  
  
"Do worry," she retorted. "I won't either."  
  
Another exchange of glares was made. They entered the store and looked around. The store itself was dark and everything was crammed on large shelves. Hermione even saw what looked like a human eyeball rotating inside a liquid-filled jar. She tore her eyes from it and reached into her pocket to retrieve the ingredient list.  
  
"Good, you brought it," Draco said. "For a Mudblood, you really do have a little common sense."  
  
"I see that you didn't bring anything with you," Hermione said.  
  
"I brought money," he said smugly, "something that you apparently didn't bring."  
  
As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She completely forgot her money. But she definitely wasn't going to tell him that. Suddenly, the word "teamwork" popped in her mind. I have no choice, she told herself.  
  
"What a great opportunity for you to show off!" she said. "Like you needed to inflate that big head of yours even more."  
  
"Oh just shut up, will you?" He sneered. He didn't want to argue, especially since he wanted to leave as soon as possible. Hermione glared at him and he glared right back.  
  
"May I be of assistance?" a young clerk asked them, bringing them back to reality.  
  
"Yes please," Hermione said and held out the piece of parchment with the ingredients. "We were wondering if you have any of these ingredients."  
  
The young man took it and frowned slightly at times. "We do hold most of these," he said, "but I don't know how you are going to get the others."  
  
"We'll manage," Hermione said simply.  
  
His face held skepticism, but he went to get the ingredients nevertheless. He gathered an armful of things and deposited them on the counter.  
  
"Do you mind if I check off some ingredients?" he asked.  
  
"That would be most helpful," Hermione answered and he did so.  
  
"All right..." he said, still looking down the list. "That will be five Galleons."  
  
He held out his hand toward Hermione, but Draco elbowed her out of the way and put the gold in the clerk's hand. He grabbed the bag full of merchandise and pocketed it. He exited the store, with Hermione following close behind. Hermione's stomach growled. Draco turned around a smirked.  
  
"Did you eat anything this morning?" he asked.  
  
"No," she answered. "I just drank some pumpkin juice. Did you eat anything?"  
  
"No," he said. "Breakfast will already be over when we get back."  
  
"I know," Hermione said.  
  
This time, it wasn't her stomach that growled. She couldn't conceal a smile, but she didn't say anything. It was a very awkward moment. They knew that they had to eat, but they would be seen together in public. However, their stomachs were protesting, so they had to give in.  
  
"Where do you want to eat at?" Draco asked stiffly.  
  
"Maybe the Leaky Cauldron?" Hermione replied uncertainly. "Well, it's so dark that hardly anyone will be able to see us anyway."  
  
"All right," Draco said. He had to agree with that.  
  
They pushed open the door of the Leaky Cauldron and stepped inside the pub. Tom the bartender immediately came to greet them and led them to a table for two, much to both Draco and Hermione's annoyance. He handed them menus and left to pour some water for the witch at the next table. They looked at the menu and decided in an instant. Tom came back with a notepad and a quill to take their order.  
  
"French toast with scrambled eggs," Hermione said. "And I would also like some milk." After all, it was her favorite breakfast combination.  
  
Draco glared at her. "Same thing," he said.  
  
Tom smiled and left. Hermione stared. Did he just order exactly what she had? That was not possible.  
  
"Why did you order that?" she asked.  
  
"Because it's what I eat every morning," he answered coldly.  
  
Great, she thought. She really did have something in common with that git. Dumbledore was right, as usual. But liking the same food didn't matter. It wasn't like they were soul mates or anything! The food arrived. Hermione took her fork and knife and cut her toast into small, square pieces. She looked across the table, just to see that Draco's toast was also cut into small, square pieces, but he was already eating. That doesn't matter either, she thought defiantly. Placing her knife down, she switched her fork to her right hand and started to eat in silence.  
  
"I know you admire me and everything, but that doesn't mean that you have to copy me!" Draco said, smirking smugly.  
  
"What gives you that idea?" Hermione asked indignantly, although she already knew the answer. Not only do they cut their toast into little square pieces, but they also licked their milk from their upper lips in the same way, and they ate their toast soaked in syrup first and left the eggs for last. "I'm not copying you and I don't admire you!"  
  
Draco still smirked.  
  
"I know this is really creepy, but I have no control over this!" Hermione said. "They're my habits and too bad if they are yours too!" She fumbled in her pocket and drew the piece of parchment out again. "We need to get some Unicorn blood, phoenix tears, and leaves of the Twisted Willow," she said, in an attempt to change the subject and it worked. "I say we should go tomorrow."  
  
"And why so, Miss Bossy?" he asked.  
  
"Because I want to get this over with as soon as you do," she said as-a- matter-of-factly.  
  
"Then that's settled," he said.  
  
They had both finished eating and Draco put down two Galleons. Hermione knew that he was also paying for her share. She knew that it was a very bad idea to forget to bring money. She had to pay him back somehow, even though she despised the very thought. They stood up and left the Leaky Cauldron, reentering Diagon Alley. A cold breeze made her shiver involuntarily. She was so stupid as to have forgotten to wear a cloak over her uniform, especially since it was November. The trees were barren and the sky was gray. The first snowflake was bound to dance down one of these days. Another breeze blew and she shivered again, feeling her teeth clatter a bit. However, this time, Draco noticed that she was practically freezing.  
  
He didn't want her to freeze to death, because that would cause many problems, especially when people start suspecting him of murder. He also felt something else for her. Was it... pity? He glanced at her again. She was rubbing her arms, trying to warm herself. He was actually feeling a little too warm under all the layers of clothing. He took off his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. Even if she did pollute it with Mudblood slime, at least he could scrub it off... or let some house-elf do it for him.  
  
Hermione looked up into his gray eyes, searching for an answer to this rare and unexpected gesture of kindness. They still looked cold and forbidding. Suddenly, a flicker of sympathy and... warmth... broke down Draco's barrier. But it was gone as soon as it showed through. She smiled at him.  
  
"Thank you," she said sincerely.  
  
"Yeah whatever," he said.  
  
Their eyes met again, but they turned away quickly, avoiding an awkward situation.  
  
"So... so... w—we should... really get back... y—you know..." Hermione stuttered.  
  
"We should," he said calmly.  
  
Hermione took out the empty (and dented) can of Coke and waited for him to take the other end of the can. When he did, they were both waiting for the tug behind their navel, but nothing happened. They waited for a few more minutes. Still nothing happened. Hermione thought that they must look really ridiculous, standing there in the middle of the street, holding a can of soda.  
  
"Um..." Hermione cringed. "I don't think that this portkey was our round-trip ticket..."  
  
"You think?" he asked sarcastically. He was getting very irritated. Not only were some shoppers looking at them curiously, but he was also stuck with Granger in Diagon Alley with no way of going back to Hogwarts. Great, he thought. Just wonderful. Hermione was thinking along the same lines as she unconsciously pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulders.  
  
"What are we going to do? What are we going to do?" she asked to no one in particular.  
  
"I thought you were the smart one," Draco said.  
  
She ignored his remark. What to do? What to do? Automatically, she brought her fingers to her mouth and began to chew on a nail. She had developed this habit during her summer between fifth and sixth years, waiting for her O.W.L. results. Naturally, she received all O's, but since she became so stressed these past years, she was always chewing on her nails. Draco obviously noticed this and pulled her finger away from her mouth.  
  
"Don't," he said.  
  
She obeyed. Back to the real problem now... what did they have to do to leave Diagon Alley? Then, it clicked. Well, it was so obvious!  
  
"The Knight Bus!" she shrieked and would have jumped into Draco's arms if he hadn't backed away. "The Knight Bus would get us to Hogwarts!"  
  
She thrust the can of soda into Draco's hands and pulled out her wand. She pointed it in front of her and waited. However, she didn't need to wait long. The purple triple-decker suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and several shoppers screamed and ran into the stores for safety. The bus stopped in front of them and Stan Shunpike stepped out. Just when he was about to start with his professional speech, but Hermione silenced him by telling him that they were going to Hogwarts.  
  
"Fourteen Sickles for the both of you," he said and extended his hand.  
  
Hermione turned around to Draco and made the puppy eyes. He sighed and dug into his pocket for the money.  
  
"I'll pay you back, I promise," Hermione said as Draco handed the money to Stan.  
  
"I really don't need the money you know," he said.  
  
They boarded and took a seat in the back. They didn't sit close to each other, but they didn't sit far away from each other either. To a stranger, they would have looked like new friends, but they would laugh in their face.  
  
The Knight Bus began to move and Draco immediately felt sick. Hermione also felt sick, but she had already ridden on the Knight Bus in her fifth year, so she felt slightly better. His pale face was starting to grow green. She couldn't help but chuckle at his expression. She knew that in his normal self, he would have spoken, but Hermione knew that he was trying to keep his mouth shut, not trusting himself enough to open his mouth. This caused Hermione to laugh harder.  
  
The bus pulled to an abrupt stop and Draco really felt relieved, especially when Stan announced "'Ogwarts!" to them. They got off in a hurry. The moment they stepped off, the bus left. Draco swung open the gates and finally walked on the Hogwarts grounds again. In the middle of their walk, Hermione's foot suddenly got caught on a root and she fell forward, taking Draco down with her. He fell face first on the grass. Hermione couldn't help but laugh as she apologized. She got up when Draco did and he didn't look very happy.  
  
"You clumsy little..." he said.  
  
"Mudblood?" Hermione finished his sentence for him and pushed him down again. She pinned him down, ignoring the curls that had fallen on his face. "Is that what you were going to say?"  
  
Draco didn't respond, but he wouldn't let Hermione pin him down. Soon, they were rolling on the grass, trying to wrestle each other. Hermione knew that she would lose sooner or later, but she didn't care. His finger accidentally poked Hermione's side and she broke out in laughter. So she is very ticklish...he thought wickedly, smirking. He tickled her sides and belly, until Hermione laughed so hard that no sound even came out of her mouth. He was certainly enjoying this. Taking advantage of Hermione so weak from laughing, he pinned her down and smirked.  
  
"Ha!" he said. "I win."  
  
"That... wasn't... fair!" she choked out in her laughter.  
  
"We Slytherins don't play fair," he said, still smirking.  
  
He stopped tickling her and Hermione gasped for breath. She actually had fun with Malfoy! That was truly unbelievable! Draco looked at her flushed face. That was actually... kind of... fun! He never got to play silly games with his fellow Slytherins. This was so strange and new for the both of them. Suddenly, they realized which position they were in and Draco quickly got off her and she quickly stood up. It was awkward.  
  
"You know Malfoy," Hermione finally said. "You're not so bad..."  
  
"You're not so bad either Granger," he said softly.  
  
They stared for a few short minutes, but finally tore their eyes away from each other. It was still awkward, if it didn't get worse.  
  
"I—I'd better go," she said.  
  
"Me too," he said. "I'll... see you tomorrow."  
  
"I'm looking forward to it," Hermione said, devoid of sarcasm.  
  
He turned and gave her a nod. She gave him a half smile. With that, he walked up the stone steps of the castle and disappeared through the doors. Hermione remained there, looking at the dark waters of the lake. She smiled, before entering the castle, forgetting that she still wore Draco's cloak... with the Slytherin emblem on the front. 


	4. Discoveries

Chapter 4  
Discoveries  
  
Hermione stepped through the portrait hole, her eyes set in a dreamy gaze and her mind wandering in fairy-tale lands. She had given up trying to push Draco's gray eyes away from her mind and now, she couldn't stop thinking about them. She wasn't falling in love, but she was starting to develop a very slight crush, even though she was oblivious to the new feelings. It was only when a shout disturbed her train of thoughts that she came back to reality.  
  
"Hermione!" Harry said as she saw her.  
  
"You're alive!" Ron said in mock relief.  
  
"Yes I survived!" She smiled at her two best friends.  
  
"If you hadn't come back right now, I was thinking that I would track down that git of a Malfoy, chop him into itty bitty little pieces, and brew his remains in a stew!" Ron said half-jokingly. "It was really Harry's idea though."  
  
She smiled at Harry, but he wasn't paying attention. He was staring at what seemed to be her cloak... Of course! The cloak! Hermione thought in horror. Draco's cloak... She quickly took it off and looked at it, her mouth gaping open. The Slytherin crest gleamed in the light. Oh no... she thought, devastated. This can't be happening.  
  
Ron noticed that something was strange and followed Harry's line of vision. His eyes landed on the Slytherin emblem and his eyes widened. He looked at Hermione, who looked even more horrified than they were. Hermione and the trip to Diagon Alley... Hermione and the Slytherin cloak... Slytherin cloak and...  
  
Harry was the first to recover from the shock. He glared at Hermione. "Something tells me that this trip wasn't as horrible as we thought it was," he said coldly.  
  
Hermione felt both the hurt and anger at her "betrayal" in his voice. "Nothing happened between us Harry!" she said worriedly. "We just did our shopping, ate our breakfast, and..." She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence, because Ron interrupted her.  
  
"Nothing happened between you?" he asked angrily. "How about a romantic little breakfast date?"  
  
"Listen to me you two!" she said furiously. "There is nothing between us! Absolutely nothing besides hatred! We only went to the Leaky Cauldron for breakfast was because we were hungry since we both skipped breakfast! We couldn't come back to the Great Hall because breakfast was over! We had no choice! It was either eat something together or starve to death!" The common room was now quiet. Everyone was staring at her, her teeth gritted and her chest heaving with every breath she took. "What the hell are you looking at?" she snapped at them and they quickly went back to their previous occupations. She turned back to Harry and Ron.  
  
"Also," she said, just as furiously, "he lent me his cloak because I was practically freezing to death, having forgotten my own! Would you two rather have me catch pneumonia and die from it or something?"  
  
She looked at them, one at a time. Both looked a bit scared. The cloak still draped over her arm, she kicked the portrait hole open and stepped through. She wasn't sure where she was going, but her feet were carrying her there. Meanwhile, Harry and Ron looked at each other.  
  
"I think we should apologize," Harry said nervously.  
  
The moment she entered the Head quarters, she walked to the other side of the common room. Draco's bedroom door was closed. She kicked it open with a loud bang and Draco's immediately sat up on his bed. Hermione threw the cloak at him and it landed in his face. With that, Hermione left without even looking at him.  
  
Draco stared at her retreating back, not knowing exactly what to do. What was going on? She was happy a few minutes ago... So once again, he was following her, his curiosity getting the best of him. The door to her bedroom was still open, and Hermione didn't seem to be aware of his presence. He leaned on the doorframe casually.  
  
"Hello," he said and Hermione jumped about a foot in the air.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked coldly. "Step out of my bedroom."  
  
"Well technically, I'm not in your bedroom," he said, smirking.  
  
Hermione looked down, where his feet were and anger flared again. He was right. Outside was wooden flooring, but in her room, it was carpet. And Draco was standing on the wooden part of the floor. She sighed.  
  
"What do you want?" she asked.  
  
"Do you know that you threw my cloak at my face?" he asked.  
  
"So?" she asked, irritated that he didn't get to the point quickly.  
  
"What made you so angry?" he asked, still smirking.  
  
"Just because I threw your cloak at your rat face," she said, "it doesn't mean that I'm angry." She kicked her trunk open and bent down.  
  
"I see," he said sarcastically.  
  
"Shut up," she said, as she took out a thick book.  
  
"I will shut up only when I choose to," he said. "What happened?"  
  
Hermione sighed and shut the lid of the trunk closed. "Harry and Ron think that we're going out," she said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me."  
  
Draco Malfoy then did something that was completely unexpected. He actually laughed. "Us?" he asked between bursts of laughter. "Going out?" He stopped laughing gradually. "That'll be the day when the Dark Lord dances the Macarena in a pink thong!"  
  
Hermione almost smiled, but she didn't. "Bad image!" she said.  
  
Draco smirked. "Not as bad as the image of us dating!" he said.  
  
Hermione glared at him. "Does that mean that I'm not good enough for you?" she asked. "Not that I want to go out with you," she added hastily.  
  
"Let me emphasize the point I've been trying to make for almost seven years," he said. "You are a filthy Mudblood."  
  
"Tell me Malfoy," she said, emphasizing his name with a disgusted intonation, "what difference does it make if I come from a Muggle background?"  
  
"It makes a lot of difference," he said.  
  
"And how so?" she asked.  
  
"You have dirty blood."  
  
"How is my blood dirtier than yours? How is it different? My blood is red and it keeps me alive. Is your blood green? Can you live without your blood? Does it do more than keep you alive? How are you so special, so superior?"  
  
Draco was silent. How was he so superior? What did his father tell him? That Mudbloods and Muggles were ugly and stupid, but... Hermione was a Head Girl and she was not really that ugly... He had to come up with something. Hermione donned a satisfied look on her face.  
  
"I think that you should really stop listening to your father's unsupported conjectures," she said. "It just might do you a little good. You should stop taking in every single thing daddy dearest tells you, especially since they are mere assumptions that are simply based on prejudice."  
  
Draco glared at her. "You don't know anything about my family," he said in a dangerous whisper.  
  
"Are you telling me that they tell you to love Muggle-borns now?" Hermione asked sarcastically. "So what do you do in Malfoy Manor, planning to move to Muggle London? Daddy dearest has decided to quit the Dark Arts and leave You-Know-Who? You don't plan to be a Death Eater just like daddy anymore?" Hermione dropped her sarcasm. "It's not hard to know what your family is doing or what your father says. Whatever he says, you listen like a good little boy, right?"  
  
Draco was fuming. "You do not know anything that is going on in my private life," he said angrily. "You wouldn't feel this way if your father beat you up if you oppose his plans. Or if your father threatened to kill you if you don't obey him. Or if your father ever taught you to believe anything else. Or if your father only had you because he needed an heir!"  
  
Draco finally realized what he had said and his eyes widened in shock. He darted out of her doorway, and into his room. Before Hermione could follow him in, he slammed the door shut behind him, Hermione's nose pressed against the wooden door. She sighed and walked back to her room, contemplating the new information. That accidental outburst provided answers for so many questions. With a pang, Hermione realized that she felt sorry for Draco. She never knew that his life was so awful! She should really try to forgive him for all these years. Now she knew that it wasn't entirely his fault...  
  
Hermione sat in the Great Hall the next morning, eating her breakfast slowly and quietly. Harry and Ron weren't down yet, but Hermione knew that it was typical for them to sleep in during the weekends. Nothing on her plate tasted good anymore, since she didn't have much appetite. She raised her eyes from her golden plate and scanned the Hall. Her eyes fell on Draco. He didn't seem to have an appetite either. He was dabbing his food with his fork, but never actually putting it in his mouth. Crabbe and Goyle, however, were eating their fourth helping of everything like two maniacs who had never tasted food before. Hermione averted her eyes to Draco again, trying to make him look up and see that she wasn't going to tell anyone about his outburst yesterday, but he didn't look up. Hermione knew that he was avoiding her gaze, not because he was unaware of it.  
  
"Um... Hermione?" a voice said besides her and she reluctantly tore her eyes from Draco.  
  
Harry and Ron were standing there, looking rather nervous. She glared at them.  
  
"What do you want?" she asked coldly.  
  
"We came here to apologize," Harry said.  
  
Hermione's facial expression softened. "Go on," she said.  
  
Harry and Ron glanced at each other. Ron poked Harry and muttered something that sounded like "you go". Harry poked him back and muttered "no you go". This exchange continued for at least another minute.  
  
"Do you want to talk to me or something?" Hermione asked impatiently.  
  
Harry turned around and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you," he said, looking at anywhere but her.  
  
"Yeah," Ron said, "I'm sorry too. It won't happen again."  
  
Hermione smiled and brought them both into a tight hug.  
  
Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, Draco stared at the trio bitterly. He would never admit it out loud, but he hated to see that Mudblood Granger had better friends than he did. Potty and the Weasel actually cared for her and they were her real friends. How did he ever get stuck with the two idiotic goons anyway? But he knew the answer to that question already. Father. The events of yesterday resurfaced in his mind. Usually, he always had control of his anger, but what happened yesterday? No one had ever made him so mad that he would shout out so much about his personal life! How did Hermione do that to him? He had to learn to control his anger when he's around her, especially since they were going to the Forbidden Forest today. He stood up and left the Great Hall, still avoiding Hermione's gaze.  
  
"You're late," Draco said coldly, as he watched Hermione's figure approaching.  
  
"Sorry," she said and she did sound genuinely so. "Harry and Ron kept me."  
  
"What were you doing with your two boyfriends?" he asked, just as coldly. "Having snog sessions?"  
  
"They're not my boyfriends," she said, as she got closer to Draco.  
  
"Weasley dumped you," he said, smirking, "are you going after Potter then?"  
  
"Will you just shut up?" she said angrily. "We actually have things to do."  
  
"How are we going to be able to find Unicorn blood and leaves from the Twisted Willow?"  
  
"We can get the leaves first," Hermione said to herself, ignoring Draco's question. "Professor Dumbledore said that when we see the Willow, we will know. "  
  
"Well what if we don't see the Willow?" Draco asked.  
  
"Stop being so pessimistic!" Hermione snapped. In truth, she was wondering the same thing, but she had hope that they will be able to see it. After all, Professor Dumbledore did say that it was the biggest tree in the forest.  
  
They entered the forest together and immediately stepped onto the path. It was November, so the tree branches were almost completely barren, save for a few leaves that still hung loosely on the branches.  
  
Once or twice, Draco's cloak slightly brushed on Hermione's arm and she would shiver. They were so close together, and they were feeling a little uncomfortable. Therefore, they made sure to keep a reasonable distance between them. They followed the path for over forty minutes until they came to a fork.  
  
"Left or right?" Hermione asked.  
  
"How am I supposed to know?" Draco said.  
  
"Let's just pick one randomly then," Hermione said.  
  
Together, they both turned right and walked on that path. Slowly, the clumps of trees became denser and the roots were creeping onto the path, threatening to trip an unsuspecting traveler. Magic was thick among these parts of the woods. The enchanting air almost felt stuffy. Magic seemed to have kept the leaves on the trees and scrubs lush and green. Little sunlight filtered in through the thick canopy of leaves. It was beginning to be hard to see. They both took out their wands and muttered "lumos". Slowly and unconsciously, they closed the distance of several feet between them. The path was starting to be overgrown by vegetation. It was obvious that few people had traveled this way. Suddenly, they could see no path anymore. What was left of the ruined trail was entirely overrun by undergrowth. They had to stop.  
  
"Great," Hermione said sarcastically. "What are we supposed to do now?"  
  
"How should I know?" Draco said. "You got us into this mess."  
  
"Oh and how so?" Hermione put her hands on her hips and glared at Draco.  
  
"If you didn't stab my hand with your stupid quill, we wouldn't be in detention!" he said.  
  
"Well, if you weren't being such a prat, I wouldn't have to stab your hand with my quill!" she retorted. "This is your fault as much as it is mine!"  
  
"If you"—however, Draco never got to tell her if she did what, because they heard a low growl not too far away from them.  
  
"What was that?" Hermione asked, fear evident in her voice.  
  
"I don't know," Draco whispered, straining his ears to hear more of that growl. Suddenly, the bushes at a slight distance from them shook. Then, everything became quiet again.  
  
Hermione's heartbeat accelerated and her breathing became heavier. She looked at Draco and he looked back at her. His face was emotionless. It took all of Draco's control not to let fear slip onto his face. The bushes stirred again. The two of them slowly started to back away, keeping their eyes on the cluster of bushes. The bushes shook a little harder this time and a few leaves fell to the ground. Draco and Hermione froze. With a thud, a black paw, tipped with long, razor-sharp claws appeared from underneath the leaves. This time, the thing let out a roar that shook the ground below their feet. Suddenly, the huge, black, shadowy thing leapt in the air and landed right in front of the two frightened teenagers. It was growling and spitting as it surveyed its prey with glowing green eyes.  
  
"Run!" Draco shouted and took off, with Hermione following closely behind.  
  
The abnormally gigantic panther ran swiftly after them, closing in the short distance. Draco and Hermione ran faster and faster, but were still unable to evade the feline. They ran like they had never run before. Hermione's foot caught under a tree root. She screamed as the ground came speeding to meet her face. With a thump, she fell onto the ground, just as a sickening crack sounded. From her ankle, pain shot through her body. She turned around and saw the panther advancing on her, its lips almost smiling. As it got ready to pounce, something blindingly white charged at it, its head bowed low, so that a horn was held out in front. The horn collided with the side of the panther and the cat roared in pain.  
  
A hand grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her up. Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and draped one of Hermione's arms over his shoulder. They tried to run as rapidly as they could as the Unicorn and the panther engaged themselves into a deadly duel. With every step she took, Hermione's ankle was sending pain all throughout her body. She winced.  
  
"Hang on there Granger," Draco said. "There's a small house a few feet away."  
  
Hermione nodded and bit her lip until she drew blood. The pain was becoming unbearable. Just when she thought that she couldn't take it anymore, Draco was already opening the door of the wooden, two-story cabin in a clearing. A musty scent and an overwhelming wave of rot greeted them and Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. They went in and Draco immediately put Hermione down on a moth-eaten couch. In fact, all of the furniture was moth- eaten and coated with spider webs. There was a fireplace by the couch, which didn't seem to have been lit for centuries. Inside the fireplace, hung a pewter cauldron. Next to that was a wooden table that was coated thickly by dust. There was also something that seemed like a pantry. There were also stairs that led up to the second floor.  
  
Hermione set her wand by her side. Carefully, she took off her shoe and her sock. She massaged her ankle gingerly. It was now turning into a yellowish green color. She winced.  
  
"That looks really bad," Draco said, a hint of sympathy in his voice.  
  
"You think?" Hermione said sarcastically. Let's see...she thought. What did Madam Pomfrey teach me? She picked up and wand and muttered, "Finite Dolor."  
  
She felt the stabbing pains slowly leave her and relief washed over her. She stood up slowly, using Draco's shoulder for support. He opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut up after seeing the look on Hermione's face. She tested her ankle. Although it did not hurt anymore, it stood out at an odd angle and was very wobbly. She still could not apply pressure to it.  
  
"What spell did you use?" Draco asked, forgetting to hide his amazement.  
  
"It was just a temporary pain reliever charm," she answered. "Nothing special. The pain is going to come back in about an hour."  
  
"Can you walk?" Draco asked.  
  
"Yeah, sort of..." Hermione said.  
  
She took her hand off of Draco's shoulder and began limping across the room, ignoring her broken ankle. Draco watched with amusement.  
  
"I think you're going to be fine," he said, smirking.  
  
Hermione ignored his remark and said, "Who lived here before? This place must be at least four hundred years old!"  
  
"I'll go upstairs to see if I can find anything that will tell us something about this place," he said. "I've never heard that there was a cabin in the Forbidden Forest."  
  
"Me neither," she said. "I'm coming with you."  
  
"You can barely walk!" Draco said amusedly. "Am I supposed to believe that you can actually climb the stairs?"  
  
"Don't underestimate me!" Hermione snapped.  
  
"Gryffindor pride, huh?" Draco smirked.  
  
Hermione glared at him and limped toward the stairs. She still could not put her weight on her injured ankle, so she grabbed the handrail tightly with both hands and slowly made her ascent. She tried to ignore Draco's laughter as much as she could. Finally, her foot reached the last stair and she breathed heavily in exhaustion.  
  
"I told you I could!" she said.  
  
"Actually, you just told me not to underestimate you," Draco said, still smirking.  
  
Hermione groaned in frustration. "You are impossible!" she said.  
  
Draco smirked even more as he ran up the stairs. Hermione looked around the single room. It had a bed, a bookshelf, a desk, and a closet. In between the desk and the bookshelf was an old chest. She limped toward it, wondering what it could be. She tried to open the lid, but it seemed to be locked. Something brushed her side and she saw Draco kneeling besides her, looking at the chest curiously. He withdrew his wand and muttered "Alohomora", but nothing happened.  
  
"Maybe we can smash this," Hermione said. "The wood doesn't look very solid."  
  
Draco was already one step ahead of her. He snatched the candelabra from the desk and was raising it up above his head. Hermione quickly crawled away. As the candelabra fell, Hermione covered her face with her arms to block the splinters. However, still nothing happened. Draco threw the candelabra aside and knelt down again. Hermione inched closer, and her eyebrows knit together. The chest was as good as new. There was not even a scratch on it.  
  
"Finite Incantatem," Draco said.  
  
Hermione tried to open it again, but still, nothing has changed.  
  
"After hundreds of years," she said, "one would think that the spell must be weakening."  
  
"The witch or wizard must be very powerful," Draco said.  
  
"But what could be so important?" Hermione wondered.  
  
Draco merely shrugged.  
  
"Maybe I can research this in the library and come back later on to open this chest," she said.  
  
She stood up clumsily and limped to the stairs, with Draco following. As she tried to descend the stairs, she lost her balance and kicked something down the steps. If two arms hadn't wrapped themselves around her waist to steady her, she would have followed the object to the first floor. She took two steadying breaths and turned around. Two gray eyes met her. She smiled hesitantly.  
  
"Th—thank you..." she said to Draco.  
  
He remained silent. There was an awkward pause.  
  
"Er... what was the thing that fell down the stairs?" she said quickly to cover the pregnant pause. "It seemed pretty small."  
  
"It looked like some kind of a necklace," he said.  
  
Together, they descended the stairs, very much aware of each other. Hermione didn't know why, but she was beginning to become self-conscious. Did she look stupid? Did she smell really bad? Did her palms sweat too much? And the most traumatizing question to her... was she blushing? And why in the world was she so nervous?  
  
At the foot of the stairs lay the mysterious object. Hermione bent down to pick it up and held it toward the window where light came through. She frowned. It was a sort of necklace all right, but what was the pendant? It looked so much like a crest. It had an emerald background with a silver and elegant letter M, topped with a crown. On each side were two snakes facing the M. Underneath was a ribbon where "Pure Sang" was written.  
  
"What is this?" Hermione held it out to Draco.  
  
He took the pendant in his hand and his eyes widened in shock.  
  
"What? What is it?" Hermione asked eagerly.  
  
"It's the Malfoy crest!" he answered disbelievingly. He turned it around. Jean-François Malefoi was engraved in the silver. "Jean-François Malfoy? He was the only Malfoy exiled for 'falling in love' with a Mudblood!"  
  
"What?" Hermione snatched the pendant from Draco's hand and looked at the engraved name. "Are you sure? But it can be, because his last name isn't Malfoy!"  
  
"We have French ancestors," Draco answered. "That was the old and French version of our last name."  
  
"Wait, wait, wait..." Hermione said. "Malfoys changed the spelling of their surname? Why?"  
  
Draco shrugged.  
  
"So this is..." Hermione looked around the cabin once again. "This is your ancestor's cabin? This was his... hideout?"  
  
"Apparently," Draco replied.  
  
Suddenly, the wall that Hermione had been leaning on for support shook like something slammed against it. She jumped back in surprise and looked out of the window. She first saw a bloody Unicorn, barely able to stand. She quickly pocketed the pendant and hobbled out of the cabin as fast as she could. The Unicorn was dragging something black out of the clearing into the deep woods. A trail of vivid red blood was splattered on the grass. It was also mixed with silver blood. Hermione followed the trail and found the panther and the Unicorn nearby. The black cat seemed to be dead and the Unicorn seemed to be too weak to live for too long. They were both lying on their sides. The Unicorn had a long wound down its neck and silver blood was still gushing out from the wound.  
  
"You'll be all right," Hermione said to the Unicorn even though she knew it could not understand a word she was saying.  
  
She reached down and ripped a strip of fabric from her robes. She brought it to the Unicorn and began to dab at the cut. The Unicorn neighed softly. She patted its long, white mane affectionately. She knew that it was beyond help, but it made her feel better to have something to do. She was so immersed by the Unicorn that she didn't see Draco stepping by her side, watching her.  
  
"Thank you for saving our lives," Hermione said to the Unicorn, still oblivious to Draco's presence.  
  
It neighed again. Then, it stopped moving. Hermione stroked its mane and she knew that it had just taken its last breath.  
  
"Well..." Draco said softly. "At least we've got one ingredient after the whole ordeal."  
  
"How could you say that?" Hermione shouted. "That poor creature just died! Is that all you care about? How can you be so insensitive? But I guess I can't expect much from you, treating your own house-elves like they are—"  
  
"Oh so it's back to that 'spew' thing, is it?" Draco shouted back.  
  
"It's not 'spew'!" Hermione said. "It's the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare! But of course you wouldn't care, because you don't give a damn how others feel!"  
  
"Oh and how would you know?" Draco retorted. "It's not like you actually know me!"  
  
"Well if you gave me a chance to be friends with you, I would know you!" Hermione said.  
  
Draco had nothing to say. Damn Granger, he thought. Why did she always have to be right? Why can she always have the last word? The moment he saw her with Harry and Ron, he stopped wanting to be friends with her. The moment he learned that she was Muggle-born he started to despise her. And things went downhill from there.  
  
"So... er... do you want to... er..." What was wrong with him? Malfoys do not stutter.  
  
"Be friends?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Yeah sure." Draco shrugged.  
  
"Then we need to start calling each other by our first names." Hermione hesitated. "Draco."  
  
I love the way she says my name, he thought. Wait... WHAT?  
  
"Hermione."  
  
My name sounds so much better when he says it, she thought. Wait... WHAT?  
  
"Anyways..." Draco cleared his throat. "Could you give me that cloth you're holding? ...Hermione."  
  
"Of course..." Hermione held it out to him. "...Draco..."  
  
When Draco took it from her hand, they're hands brushed. She could feel her cheeks burning. What is wrong with me? She wondered. Fortunately for her, Draco didn't see her. He was fumbling in his pocket for his wand. He muttered something under his breath that Hermione didn't quite catch, but the blood had stopped drying at once.  
  
"What did you do?" Hermione asked, interested.  
  
"It's just a Preservation Charm," he said.  
  
"You have to teach me how to do it," she said.  
  
Draco looked at her, shocked. Then, he remembered that they were supposed to be friends.  
  
"Sure," he answered.  
  
Hermione smiled and he felt his heart skip a beat. What's happening to me? He wondered. Then, Hermione gasped.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
Hermione just pointed at something over his shoulder. He spun around. It was a tree, but it was no ordinary tree. It seemed like it was ten trees intertwined together to form the trunk. The leaves fell almost to the ground. It was easily the largest tree in the forest. Ten adults could have formed a circle around it if they were hand-in-hand.  
  
"The Twisted Willow," he muttered under his breath.  
  
Hermione was already picking the leaves off of the willow and stuffing them into the pockets of her cloak and robes. Draco followed suit and soon, their pockets were stuffed with leaves.  
  
"Our work here is done," he said and looked around at Hermione.  
  
She was biting her lip and cringing. The pain in her injured ankle had returned at full force. Oh no, Draco thought. He could only think of one solution. He quickly swept Hermione off her feet and carried her back to the cabin, where her wand was. At first, she wanted him to let her go, but then, she realized that he was just trying to help her.  
  
"We have to get back quickly," he said as soon as he set her on the couch.  
  
But how are they going to get back? He didn't know where they were! Then, it came to him. It was so obvious. So easy. He walked out of the cabin and held his wand up in the air.  
  
"Accio Nimbus 2001!" he said.  
  
He did not have to wait for long. His broomstick came speeding to meet him. He went back inside to get Hermione. They mounted, but Hermione was shaking.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked.  
  
"I—I'm f—fine," she said, her voice shaking.  
  
He kicked off the ground and Hermione screamed. She snapped her eyes shut and tightened her grip on the broomstick.  
  
"You're afraid of heights?" Draco asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.  
  
"Of course not!" she shouted, but her voice was shaking.  
  
Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and she seemed to relax, against her own wishes. They were speeding toward the castle at a distance. A chilly wind blew. Draco could smell the faint scent of Hermione's hair. It was... intoxicating. Soon, they left the Forbidden Forest and Draco pulled the broomstick into a dive. Hermione grabbed his hand and squeezed so tightly that Draco's fingers became numb. They dismounted. Nobody was on the grounds, since it was so chilly. Draco took his broomstick in one hand and used the other to support the limping Hermione all the way to the Hospital wing, ignoring the confused looks other students gave them. 


	5. Revelations

Chapter 5  
  
Revelations  
  
Draco and Hermione both lied on the beds in the Hospital Wing. As usual, Madam Pomfrey instantly healed them. Draco had nothing worse than scratches, but Hermione had a cut lip and slash on her cheek, as well as bruises. Although her ankle was no longer broken, it was still a little sore. All the wounds were healed, but Madam Pomfrey insisted that they would not leave, saying that she needed to make sure the potions they took had no side effects.  
  
"Good thing we decided to become friends at the last minute," Hermione said in the evening after dinner. "If we still fought every five seconds, imagine what would happen to us. We'd have more than scratches and bruises."  
  
"True," Draco said. "But that doesn't mean we have to get all mushy."  
  
"I'd be really hard for you to get all mushy," Hermione said. "And I hate to think what could happen."  
  
Before Draco could respond, someone shouted, "Hermione!" She turned and saw Harry and Ron coming in the Hospital Wing, looking very worried.  
  
"Are you all right?" Harry asked.  
  
"Of course I am," Hermione answered. "You know Madam Pomfrey can fix anything."  
  
"That's not what I meant," Harry said. "It's that git over there."  
  
Draco opened his mouth indignantly, but a look from Hermione made him close his mouth once more.  
  
"Draco hasn't hurt me in any way!" Hermione said.  
  
"It's Draco now?" Ron asked. "I knew something was going on between you two since you came back yesterday with his cloak!"  
  
"Listen to me you two!" Hermione shouted. She had a sharp feeling of déjà vu. "Draco... yes, Draco... has not hurt me! He actually helped me a lot when I got injured! Without him, I'd either be in a panther's belly or in pain somewhere in the middle of the forest! Also, would you please treat him like he's a human? He's my friend now—"  
  
"WHAT?" Harry and Ron shouted in unison.  
  
"Yes," Draco said coldly. "We're friends now. And there's nothing you morons can do about it."  
  
Harry and Ron both glared at Malfoy. Hermione could almost see the smoke coming out from their ears. Ron's ears turned bright red.  
  
"You little—" Ron swung his fists violently in the air.  
  
"RON!" Hermione said. "Will you stop it?"  
  
"Hermione!" Ron said, dropping his fists and turning to Hermione. "What happened to you?"  
  
"Is there something really wrong about trying to get to know someone?" Hermione asked.  
  
"But we already know him!" Ron said. "He's a egoistical, conceited, slimy, filthy bastard!"  
  
Ron rubbed his temples in fury.  
  
"What, did those big words give you brain cramps, Weasel?" Draco asked scornfully.  
  
If Harry hadn't grabbed hold of the back of Ron's robes, he would have pounced on Draco and pounded him to a bloody pulp.  
  
"Come on, you guys!" Hermione said desperately. "Why can't you guys just accept each other?"  
  
"There's no way that I'll accept the Malferret!" Ron shouted.  
  
"Yeah, like I'm actually going to accept the Weasel King," Draco said.  
  
"Hermione, think," Harry said. "Six years of torment! Six years!"  
  
"But it's not really his fault!" Hermione said.  
  
"Of course it is his fault!" Ron said. "How can it not be?"  
  
Draco caught Hermione's eye and held his breath. Was she going to tell them?  
  
"Because you two didn't give him an easy time either!" Hermione said, and Draco breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Well... well..." Ron's ears were red and he was struggling. "He started it!" he finally burst out.  
  
"Can you even hear yourself?" Hermione said. "You three are acting so childish! We're all going to be adults soon and you still act like you were in first year!"  
  
There was a pause when everyone was fuming.  
  
"Well Hermione," Harry said calmly. "Have fun with Malfoy."  
  
He withdrew something from his inside his cloak and threw it on Hermione's bed. Harry and Ron then turned their backs and left without another word. Hermione picked up the package and saw that it was a brand new book, and a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans with a note attached to it. It said:  
  
To Our Very Best Friend Hermione, We hope you get better soon. In the meanwhile, we bought you a book that we thought might be interesting to you. Enjoy!  
  
Get well soon! Harry and Ron  
  
Hermione grabbed the box of candy and threw it across the room. It collided with the wall. Bright beans flew out of the box and scattered on the floor. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes.  
  
The weary old Headmaster leaned back in his armchair, closing his eyes. He sighed wearily and shook his head. They were dealing with an almost hopeless case. This plan was bound to fail at some point or another. It just couldn't work. Not with those two.  
  
A knock on his door shook Professor Dumbledore out of his thoughts. He stood up, ignoring the sharp pains in his lower back, and opened the door. In came three of his colleagues. None of them knew the purpose of this meeting. Professor Snape looked politely interested; Professor Vector wore a frown; and Hagrid looked curious. The Headmaster retired to his armchair behind his desk again, and put his fingertips together.  
  
"First of all, I want to thank you for coming," he said. "I wish to discuss a serious matter about a prophecy which is linked to Harry Potter's prophecy."  
  
The effects of these words were immediate. Professor Snape stirred in his seat, looking interested. Professor Vector and Hagrid exchanged a glance, and quickly turned back to the Headmaster for more information.  
  
"This prophecy ensures the success of Harry's defeat of Voldemort." The three professors flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord. "Without the fulfillment of this important prophecy, Voldemort"—the professors flinched again—"may become invincible."  
  
"What does the prophecy say?" Professor Vector asked.  
  
"Two enemies, one Dark and one Light, of equal intelligence, ambition, and power will fall in love," the Headmaster answered, "and team up, combining their powers, to aid in the defeat of the Dark Lord."  
  
"And who might these enemies be?" Snape asked, although he already knew the answer to that question.  
  
"None other than Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger," Dumbledore replied solemnly.  
  
"But that's impossible!" Vector remarked. "They share nothing but hatred toward each other. I've seen them at it in my class. They are bright students, but they waste their intelligence on insults!"  
  
"This has occurred to me also," Dumbledore said. "That's when you come in. I hope you will, say, help make this prophecy come true, because prophecies do not always come true. Do not do anything obvious, because everything must happen by their freewill. Forced love will not work against Voldemort."  
  
"What do yeh want us teh do, sir?" Hagrid asked.  
  
"Make them spend as much time together as possible," Dumbledore responded. "Hopefully, they will get to know each other little by little and appreciate each other's company. However, you mustn't reveal this plan to them or anyone else for that matter. They may not know."  
  
The professors sat silently, considering this new piece of information. Make them spend as much time together as possible... if they were lucky, the two students wouldn't have killed each other by then. None of the professors knew about the fragile (so far) and unusual friendship that Draco and Hermione were starting to develop.  
  
Professor Dumbledore strolled over to his windows, looking at the yellowing grass and the barren trees outside.  
  
"Have any of you noticed that snow seems to be coming late this year?" He turned around.  
  
They nodded, looking puzzled.  
  
"Well..." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he smiled. "Once our Head Boy and Girl share their first kiss, the first snowflake of the year will fall."  
  
Hermione was miserable. She had never been more miserable in her whole entire life. First of all, Harry and Ron would not even look at her, let alone talk to her. Second, her teachers seem to be acting very strange. They insist on pairing her up with Draco for every single assignment. It was not the pairing that was bothering her. Au contraire, she was grateful to have someone who didn't avoid her and was willing to talk to her. It was the fact that her teachers, even Snape, kept shooting glances over at Draco and her. They seemed to be expecting something to happen. And lastly, since Christmas was coming, they had more Head duties than ever. Dumbledore even mentioned something about a Winter Dance, which they would most likely have to plan. The only comfort that she had, which sounded completely absurd, was Draco.  
  
Draco seemed more like a friend to her than anyone else. The rumors of their friendship seemed to spread like wildfire throughout Hogwarts. Most were very disapproving of this bond, therefore, students from all houses started to ignore them. Hermione got the biggest blow, since many students looked up to her, and never thought that she would associate herself with people like Draco. Draco had it fairly easy, since three-fourths of the school hated him anyway. He was used to it. Slytherins were separated into two groups. Half felt disgusted that he decided to sink so low as to befriend a filthy Mudblood, but the other half supported him entirely, believing this was one of his latest schemes to get back at Harry.  
  
The news of their friendship even reached the ears of their professors. Most of them seemed supportive of it, even Snape, for a reason Draco and Hermione could not fathom. Hermione thought that it might be because of inter-house unity, but Snape was never supportive of it... Hermione shrugged the peculiarity off and continued with her daily routine. Days passed into weeks, and soon, November was over.  
  
December came with gusts of freezing wind, but still no snow. Even the students started to wonder about the lack of snow that year. It was very unusual for somewhere as north as Britain. Hermione blamed it on global warming, and tried to explain her views to Draco, who laughed. "Global warming?" he had said, amused. "You think it's some stupid Muggle theory?" She had glared at him and never brought up the subject again.  
  
Hermione sat at her favorite table in the library, doing her essay on Potions. She knew that there was a History of Magic essay on the famous person due, but fortunately, Binns had postponed the due date. Her relationship with Harry and Ron hasn't improved by much. For the first time in two weeks, Ron had talked to her. He asked her to pass the ketchup very politely. However, he wasn't looking at her when he made the request, which did not make Hermione feel any better.  
  
Suddenly, she heard two whispering voices. Annoyed that two students dared to disturb her "homework-time", she looked up from her essay. She immediately wished that she hadn't. It was Harry and Ron. Their heads were together, and they whispering in hurried voices. It seemed very suspicious. Hermione cleared her throat loudly, and her former friends looked up, looking surprised and scared at the same time.  
  
Hermione stood up fluidly and walked toward them with her arms crossed.  
  
"Tell me," she said coldly, "what were you doing?"  
  
"Talking," Ron said furiously. "Is it against the law now?"  
  
"And what were you talking about?" Hermione's eyes narrowed.  
  
"It's none of your business," Harry answered.  
  
"Why don't you go snog Malfoy now?" Ron asked.  
  
Hermione puffed up her chest, her Head Girl badge gleaming. "I am Head Girl," she said. "I have authority and I can deduct points and put you both in detention for the rest of the year! Also, I have no romantic feelings toward Draco."  
  
Ron and Harry exchanged looks.  
  
"Hermione," Ron said, "we've been thinking—" He was interrupted by Hermione.  
  
"Now that's a first," she said icily.  
  
"We've been thinking," Ron said, his teeth gritted, "that if you like Malfoy's company so much more than ours, then we can sever our strained bonds once and for all."  
  
"Guess what I've been thinking," she said, not letting her anger show. "Who I befriend is none of your business. If you were a little more open-minded, you will see that Draco's not really a bad person. However, you don't even take the time to get to know him and you already judge him."  
  
"We already know what we need to know about him," Harry said.  
  
"Everyone has faults," she said, "and those are just his faults. There is a good side to him. You only need to know how to look for it."  
  
"Then his so-called 'good side' must be hidden a little too well," Ron said.  
  
He looked over at Harry. Harry wasn't looking at him, he was thinking. Hermione had a really good point there. Not everyone was one hundred percent bad, maybe not even Voldemort. You only needed to know how to seek their good side...  
  
"Harry," Ron said. "Let's not waste anymore of our time with Malfoy's lover. We have Quidditch practice."  
  
Harry didn't move. He didn't even seem to have heard him.  
  
"Harry!" Ron yelled in his ear. "We have to go!"  
  
Harry shook himself out of his thoughts, and muttered, "y—yeah... we have to go."  
  
Ron dragged him out of the library, leaving Hermione staring angrily at their retreating backs. Those gits, she thought. Those absolute gits! 


	6. To Be a Malfoy

_**Chapter 6**_

**To Be A Malfoy**

The elegant eagle owl swooped in the room gracefully. Draco looked up at the bird, and his heart started pounding with apprehension. Tied to the leg of his owl was a scroll of green parchment with a black ribbon. The letter M was stamped on the paper. Draco's hands shook as he reached over to untie the letter. He knew what it was going to contain. He untied the ribbon and started to read, his frown deepening at every word. When he finished reading, he crinkled up the paper and threw it on his desk. He plopped down on his bed and stared hopelessly at the green and silver canopy of his four-poster.

"You wanted to see us, sir?" Draco said as he and Hermione entered Dumbledore's office.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Please take a seat."

He gestured the chairs in front of his desk. Draco and Hermione each took a seat.

"I would like to congratulate you for doing such a great job being Head Boy and Head Girl," Dumbledore said. "That's why I think one more duty won't hurt. As I have mentioned before, we are going to have Winter Dance and I would need you two to help plan it, since you know your peers better than we do."

"Why are we having a dance all of a sudden?" Draco asked a little ruder than he had planned, which earned him a glare from Hermione. Personally, he had never really liked Dumbledore, so he did not have much respect for the man.

"The War, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore answered. "We may never have a chance to have fun and enjoy life anymore. It will tear everyone apart, so we might as well have some fun while we can during this somewhat peaceful time."

Draco was skeptical, but he let it slide.

"The Winter Dance will be held on Christmas Eve," Dumbledore said. "It is a formal occasion, therefore, everyone must wear dress robes. In addition, all years are allowed to attend. I will inform students about it in the Great Hall tonight. I trust that you two will plan a splendid dance."

"We will," Hermione said.

They stood up and walked toward the door. Draco had almost reached the doorknob when Dumbledore spoke again.

"Oh and one more thing," he said. "The Head Boy and Girl are to go together."

They exchanged glances and nodded.

"No snakes on the walls Draco!" Hermione said exasperatedly in Draco's bedroom.

"How about the ceiling?" Draco asked.

"_No snakes!_" she said.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Christmas is a joyful celebration," she said. "I don't want _anything_ that will dampen the Christmas spirit. Especially not something so morbid and Slytherin-y."

"Then you're going to have to put the color green in the decorations," Draco said.

"We have to," she replied. "Green and red are Christmas colors, remember?"

"Was I supposed to know that?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered. "Don't you celebrate Christmas?"

"We don't really celebrate it," Draco said sullenly. "The holiday just gives my mother an excuse to throw party after party. She _was_ voted Witch Weekly's Best Hostess four years in a row… But we never actually decorated the Manor with Christmas colors or trees or whatever."

"Wow… I never knew that."

"Now you do."

"I'm sorry your parents deprive you of so much fun and happiness."

"That's not all that they deprive me from."

Hermione remained silent.

Draco cleared his throat and said, "I think we should get more parchment."

"Yeah," Hermione said, glad to have another subject to talk about. "Is it on your desk?"

"Yes," he replied. "There's a whole stack there."

Hermione stood up and walked over to Draco's desk. Draco was right. There _was_ a lot of parchment. When her hands started to reach for the stack, a crumpled piece of paper caught her eye, so she took that instead. She turned around and asked, "What is that?"

"What is what?" Draco asked, not looking up.

"This piece of paper," she said.

Draco turned and looked at the paper in her hand and his eyes widened. "Th—that's nothing… really," he said.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously and started to straighten out the paper.

"Don't!" Draco said angrily. "You can't go through my stuff whenever you want to!"

"Then tell me what this is," she said.

"No!" Draco was starting to get angry.

"We're friends, remember?" Hermione said. "Friends don't keep things from each other."

"Crabbe and Goyle don't know anything about me," he retorted.

"That's because they aren't your real friends," she said smoothly.

"And you are?" he said coolly. "How long have we been friends again?"

"Why are you _always_ like this?" she said.

"Like what?" he said through gritted teeth. "If you don't mind, bring me the stack of parchment."

"If this is how you treat people," she said angrily, "no wonder you have no friends."

Draco wasn't angry anymore. He just looked at her. Hermione suddenly wished that she hadn't said that.

"I—I'm really sorry," Hermione stuttered. "I shouldn't have said that…"

Draco took a deep breath. There was _no way_ he was going to admit that she was right. There was _no way_… _Absolutely no—_

"No…you're right," he said. "All of my friends aren't my real friends. They're just after my power and money." Hermione looked sympathetic. "And I don't need your pity," he added harshly.

"Even if I'm not your real friend either," she said. "Then I'm probably the closest thing to a real friend you have."

Draco did not respond.

"So…" Hermione hesitated. Should she try her luck? "What's on that paper?"

Draco sighed. "It's a letter if you must know," he said. "Read it if you want. It's not like I can stop you."

She eyed him curiously, waiting for him to change his mind. But he didn't. It was okay for her to read it? She straightened out the paper. On it was a short letter in an elegant cursive. It read:

_Draco,_

_I am very disappointed with you during our last meeting. However, I have decided to give you one last chance. Inform me of your decision within a week, before Christmas. I hope you choose the right one. You will be a great asset to the Dark Lord. If you do not choose correctly, we'll have a "talk"._

_Lucius Malfoy _

"Choose… what?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"To become a Death Eater," he said without looking at her.

Hermione reread the letter, comprehension dawning on her.

"You met your father last time and told him that you didn't want to be a Death Eater?" she asked. "You're not a Death Eater?"

Draco sighed and pulled back his sleeves for Hermione to look. His forearms were still pallid, but devoid of any mark. "I don't want to be a Death Eater," he said quietly. "I do not wish to follow in my father's footsteps."

"Then what are you going to do?" she asked nervously. "What does he mean by 'we'll have a talk'?" She was dreading the answer to that question.

"You know, the usual," he said bitterly. "Spending days in the dungeons, wishing that you were dead… but this time, maybe I'll get my wish."

Hermione was on the verge of saying that she was sorry, but she knew that he wouldn't take any of her pity. "How can you let him to that to you?" she asked.

"I don't have a choice!" Draco said.

"Yes you do!" she said. "Tell him that you will _not_ become a Death Eater and I'll do anything I can to stop him from taking you with him!"

"And how will you do that?" he asked skeptically.

"I'll think of something," she said. "There is no way I'm going to live with myself seeing a friend with the Dark Mark on his arm, especially if I could have prevented it."

"That's the problem!" Draco said, standing up and facing her. "You _can't_ prevent it from happening! It's like forcing the Earth to stop revolving!"

"Then what do you suggest we do?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"We? This is about me. I don't want you to get involved. I'll just go and get the Mark and everyone will be happy."

"You won't be happy! I won't be happy! You can't do this to yourself!"

"There is no other way!"

Hermione looked pensive. Her eyes lighted up and Draco could almost see a light bulb turning on, on top of her head.

"I've got an idea!" she exclaimed. "Go to Dumbledore. He can solve any kind of problem."

"How the hell is that going to work?" he said incredulously. "There is no way that old coot would know how to solve a problem like mine. This has nothing to do with him!"

"You are his student," Hermione said. "Therefore, he is responsible for your welfare. He has to care. Please Draco, if this doesn't work, then you can… you can… well… you know… get the Mark and make your father happy."

Draco still remained skeptical.

"He has helped Harry out of many tight situations," she said. Thinking about Harry made her angry, so she quickly added, "Please trust me on this, Draco."

Draco sighed and said, "Sure, whatever."

Hermione was tired and apprehensive. She had managed to convince Harry and Ron to work with her for their History of Magic project. So she was sitting in the library, a pile of books and parchment beside her, waiting for her two former friends' arrival. They had agreed to meet in the library at seven, but it was now seven fifteen and they were still absent. Angry flared inside of her again. Just when she was about to start working without them did they strut in.

"What took you so long?" she asked angrily.

"None of your concern," Ron said grudgingly.

Harry rolled his eyes, as Hermione shot Ron a venomous glare.

"Come on guys," Harry said. "We were supposed to work here, not glare at each other."

Hermione and Ron both looked at him curiously.

"What?" he asked uncomfortably.

"Nothing," Ron and Hermione said in unison. This only resulted in another exchange of glares.

"Let's put our grudges aside and get this done quickly," Harry said. "_All right_?"

They both shrugged. Harry and Ron sat down at Hermione's table as she distributed books to them.

"I just want you to take a few notes on the guy," she said.

"Of course, _your Majesty_," Ron said sarcastically.

"Are you going to do your work or not?" Hermione snapped.

Ron looked over at Harry, but Harry seemed to be ignoring his glance. So instead, he cursed Hermione inwardly.

The three students worked very silently, only disrupted by the occasional cough and sigh. The atmosphere was icy and uncomfortable. Quite often, the students shifted uneasily in their seats. Everyone was on high alert, which greatly surprised Hermione. She had never felt like this when she had to work with Draco, who was actually her former archenemy. Maybe the reason for their insecurity was their profound knowledge of each other, which obviously included each other's weaknesses.

"This is going nowhere," Ron said exasperatedly, catching both Harry and Hermione off-guard by his sudden outburst. "All these books say is that he was an evil man who hated Muggle-borns. We already know that."

"My books say that too," Harry said.

"Just keep looking," Hermione said as she picked up another book from the pile. "Maybe we'll get something useful."

"Fat chance," Ron muttered.

"Well you've got to at least try," Hermione said wryly.

Ron sighed, but remained silent otherwise. So they continued on their search. Twenty minutes later, Hermione was now down to the last book in the pile. Reading for several minutes, she gasped, which caught Harry and Ron's attention.

"What?" they asked eagerly.

"I think I've just hit gold," Hermione said calmly and incredulously. She turned the book around so that Harry and Ron could see it better. All three of them leaned closer. The passage read:

_Loup Malfoy was known to be the most prejudiced man after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. His hatred of Muggle-borns and non-magical people, more commonly known as Muggles, is renowned among the Wizarding community. His own creation of the word "Sang-de-Bourbe" in French, or translated, "Mudblood", is one of his best-known feats. _

"I thought Salazar Slytherin invented the word 'Mudblood'," Harry remarked.

"Maybe Slytherin did," Hermione said. "But he was the one who renewed the meaning to it after prejudice against Muggle-borns started to fade away."

_Some things, such as his obscure past, aren't as notable as his hatred of Muggle-borns and Muggles. In fact, he migrated from France to England in the early sixteenth century. His birth name was Loup DesChamps. He became such a disagreeable man that his neighbors called him "Male foi", or bad faith. He, being the strange person that he was, soon took pride in that nickname. His popularity in France became so terrible that even he could not take it anymore. So one day, he packed his bags and decided to move to England to start a new life as a new person. He kept his first name, but he modified his old nickname to an English version, and adopted it as his surname. He became Loup Malfoy, a whole new man. _

_Jean-François _Malefoi, Hermione thought. _Malefoi, Malfoy_. Exactly what Draco told her… Her thoughts wandered to the pendant, and comprehension dawned on her.

_Many historians have pondered the reason of why he hated Muggle-borns so much. According to various resources, including his brief and cryptic journal entries, and his letters to his brother, historians came to only one plausible answer by combining all of their limited resources. _

_By Malfoy's journals and letters, historians could deduce that his hatred was spurred by heartbreak. His early journal entries indicated his happiness and popularity in the Wizarding community. When he fell in love with Geneviève Lafayette, he couldn't be happier, especially after he learned that she returned his feelings. He was a handsome, resolute, and fiercely independent pureblood, and Geneviève Lafayette was an intelligent and beautiful Muggle-born witch. Soon, they were engaged._

_Slowly, Malfoy became interested in the Dark Arts. It started out as just dabbing into it for the mere sake of entertainment. Then, he began to go in deeper. He had always loved to seek thrilling fun. However, when Lafayette discovered his newfound interest, she started having doubts about the integrity of her fiancé. Gradually, she started distancing herself from him. Eventually, she fell in love with another man and called the wedding off. This angered and hurt Malfoy beyond belief. That's when he plunged so deeply into the Dark Arts that he was beyond help. _

_Little by little, the great person that he once was became replaced by the bitter, obnoxious demon that occupied him for the rest of his life. His popularity diminished rapidly, which did not help his anger at all. If possible, he became even worse. This only caused witches and wizards around him to despise him even more. They started to give him nicknames, such as "Male foi" mentioned above. _

_In England, Loup Malfoy married Jane Key and started his own businesses. When the economy was failing and Malfoy's companies were losing money, he turned to a wealthy family at that time, the Weasleys. He promised to return the borrowed money as soon as his companies start doing better. However, when his businesses were thriving once again, he did not tell the Weasleys and continued borrowing money from them, still promising to return it. He was greedy and wealthy. He hired Edward Richardson to commit theft on the Weasley family and transfer all their possessions in Gringotts' bank to his accounts. This caused James Weasley and his family to crash severely into bankruptcy, as well as in their rank in Elizabethan England. _

Both Harry and Hermione looked at Ron instinctively. His entire face was red and his eyebrows were furrowed together. Without saying anything, they resumed reading.

_In Malfoy's private life, his wife, Jane, bore him two sons. The elder, Jean-François became exiled and put in death by his own father for falling in love with a Muggle-born witch by the name of Katherine Jones. He also hired assassins for the acquisition of Katherine's head. His younger son, Formidilosus, became exactly what a Malfoy should be, according to Loup. The modern Malfoys are all descendants of Formidilosus, because Jean-François had no children. _

_Several years later, Jane died by an inexplicable cause. Some suspect that Loup Malfoy murdered her. Others believe that she died of natural causes. To this day, the mystery remains a mystery. A couple of decades later, in 1545, Loup Malfoy died in his sleep at the age of sixty-three, alone and unloved. By his last will and testament, Formidilosus inherited all of the family fortune, making the Malfoy household one of the wealthiest families in all of England. _

_One thing however, that most witches and wizards don't know is the curse that befell the whole of the Wizarding communities all over the world. This curse originated from the Malfoys. Associated with the curse, was a prophecy. Details are still unknown. The prophecy holds the key to the destruction of the curse and a Dark Lord, probably He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The curse was cast by and the prediction prophesized by the one and only Merlin. _

The text ended there, and started a new chapter, talking about an entire other person. All three looked up, forgetting that they were not best friends anymore, and exchanged meaningful glances, slowly registering the new pieces of information.

"We're definitely going to get an A plus on _this_ assignment," Ron remarked.

Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"All we need," Hermione said, "is to find out more about this curse and the prophecy."

Hermione quickly copied the entire passage and stuffed her parchment and quill into her backpack.

"Let's go," Hermione said to Harry and Ron. "I think we've got _a lot_ of information today. We can even start writing our essay now."

"Yeah," Harry said and Ron nodded.

There was a very uncomfortable pause.

"Draco isn't really bad you know," Hermione said softly.

Ron sighed and said, "I'm hungry Harry. Let's go."

And without another glance back at her, Harry and Ron left the library, leaving Hermione staring at their backs hopelessly.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Draco asked uncertainly, only halfway resisting Hermione's tug on his arm.

"We agreed to go to Dumbledore!" Hermione insisted. "You're coming with me no matter what you say!"

"But—" he whined.

"No buts!" Hermione said firmly. Her voice softened as she said, "Don't worry. He keeps things confidential."

Draco still looked reluctant.

"Come on Draco," she said slightly pleadingly. "You said you would! This is going to be beneficial! Trust me! Please!"

Draco rolled his eyes and let her drag him all the way to Dumbledore's office. She rapped on his door and they waited for him to answer. When he did, his smiling face and twinkling blue eyes greeted them.

"Hello Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said brightly, as he stepped back to let them in. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Hermione looked at Draco, urging him to tell Dumbledore. However, Draco was scowling and silent.

"Tell him," Hermione whispered.

Draco made no movement and no response. Hermione sighed.

"Draco's father wants him to become a Death Eater," Hermione said, ignoring the warning looks Draco gave her. "But he doesn't want to. The problem is that he can't even tell his father his decision or… _really_ bad things would happen to him… What should he do?"

"I'm glad you came to me," Dumbledore smiled.

He sat down behind his desk, and leaned back. He closed his eyes and looked pensive. Abruptly, he bent forward and smiled at Draco.

"Have you ever considered becoming a spy?" he asked.


	7. Crucial Decisions and Strange Visions

_**Chapter 7**_

**Crucial Decisions and Strange Visions**

"A spy?" Draco repeated, incredulous.

Dumbledore nodded. "However," he said, "It is entirely your choice."

Draco exchanged a glance with Hermione. What was he going to do? He knew full well the risks of being a spy. He'd probably be easily caught. No one that he knew of had _ever_ lied to Voldemort and got away with it… But on the other hand, this would save him from his Father's "talks". Even if he did get the Mark, Voldemort will only have his body, not his mind, nor soul…

"Take your time," Dumbledore said, breaking his chain of thoughts. "Just come to me when you've made a decision."

"I will, sir," Draco replied.

"How is the dance coming?" he asked.

"Very well, sir," Draco said. "We just need to get the Weird Sisters to play for us again. We should be done a little earlier than planned."

"Excellent." Dumbledore smiled.

When they left Dumbledore's office, they walked in silence all the way to their quarters. Draco collapsed on the couch, deep in thought. Hermione took a book and started to read, although her eyes were not moving. Her lips were pursed and she was in thought too.

"What am I going to do?" Draco muttered, making Hermione jump.

"Do whatever _you_ want," Hermione said. "After all, you _do_ have a solution to your problem now."

Draco sighed. "You're really not helping," he said.

"You know what I would do?" Hermione asked, and Draco stayed quiet. "I would take his offer and not worry too much about the risk factors."

"Typical Gryffindor," Draco muttered. "So _noble_ and _brave_."

"Since you're so _Slytherin_, why don't you just find some other cunning plan, then?"

"There's no way. It's either one or the other."

"Have it your way."

At these words, Hermione's eyes fell on the book once again, leaving Draco even more disgruntled than before.

In addition to all of their other duties, Draco and Hermione still found many times to concoct the potion that Snape wanted for their detention. They had gotten phoenix tears from Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes. They had everything and they held many meetings brewing the potion, and this one finally seemed to be their last. Hermione sighed in relief as she dropped the bezoar, the last ingredient, into the cauldron as Draco stirred.

"Finally!" she said. "We can finally hand this in to Snape."

"Yes," Draco said, sounding equally relieved. "Hand me that crystal vial will you?"

"What's the magic word?" Hermione asked playfully.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Please?" he said.

"That's a good boy!" Hermione said as she handed the vial to him.

Draco filled the vial full with the same red liquid in the cauldron. Together, they walked to Snape's office in the dungeons, chatting and joking. When Snape opened the door for them, he seemed somewhat pleased that they had finally finished and invited them in. Both were nervous, remembering that Snape had told them that he would be testing their antidote on them.

"Ready to see it tested?" Snape smirked unpleasantly.

Both students gulped and nodded warily.

"I will only be testing this on one person," he said. "Who will be the lucky one?"

Draco and Hermione exchanged glances. Hermione opened her mouth, but she didn't have a chance speak. Unexpectedly, Draco had stepped forward, and said, "I will." Both Hermione and Snape gazed at him in surprise.

"Y—you don't have to, you know," Hermione stuttered.

"I'm just going to take his 'offer' and not worry too much about the risk factors," he said and smirked.

Hermione just stared at him, not knowing what to say, think, or even feel.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked worriedly.

"Hermione." Draco smirked. "What fun will life be if we don't take risks from time to time?"

Hermione opened her mouth, but once again nothing came out.

"Let's get started," Draco said, "while Hermione's imitating a fish."

Hermione quickly shut her mouth, ignoring Draco's snigger. Snape retrieved his wand from his pocket.

"If anything happens to you," Hermione said hastily, catching Draco's attention again, "I just want to say that you are one of my best friends in the whole world and I will always remember you."

She could feel her cheeks getting red, especially when Draco smiled at her. A genuine, sweet smile that made her heart leap up a million miles.

"How touching," Snape said in his usual bitter self, which really spoiled the moment.

Hermione cleared her throat and stepped back, allowing Snape to proceed, and all the while keeping her eyes on Draco.

"_Sorpor_," Snape muttered.

Draco closed his eyes and wobbled dangerously. Suddenly, he fell right toward Hermione. She shrieked as she held out her arms and caught Draco. He was too heavy for her and she couldn't hold him for long. Carefully, she set Draco down on the floor, and knelt by his side.

She heard a pop, and she looked up, seeing Snape had just uncorked the vial. _Please_, she thought,_ please let it work._ She crossed her fingers as Snape approached them with the reddish potion swirling inside the vial. Snape crouched down and parted Draco's lips. He let two drops of the antidote in Draco's mouth. The two of them waited anxiously. If Draco doesn't wake up, Hermione would be absolutely devastated. He was her only friend these days and he meant so much to her. Snape was just fearful of losing his job.

So they both waited nervously. Draco still remained motionless. Hermione's heart pounded faster inside her ribcage. _Please_, she thought desperately. _PLEASE let this work or I'll never forgive myself for letting him take the curse_. _Please_. Draco still hasn't moved so much as a hair. Just when she was about to stand up and leave, that Draco finally stirred. She immediately put her whole attention on him, and prayed that he would open those stormy gray eyes.

Then, his eyes flickered open. The first thing he felt was how sore the back of his head felt. His vision was blurry.

"Draco!" a voice besides her called.

He turned his head and she saw two blurry, faceless heads, each topped with bushy brown hair. He blinked twice, and rubbed his eyes. He looked again, and saw Hermione leaning over him, looking very worried. Slowly, he pushed himself up, and rubbed the back of his head.

"Are you all right?" Hermione put her arm around him.

"I—I think so…" he said.

"Well," Snape said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "You may go then."

Draco had a little trouble getting up, saying that he felt slightly dizzy. It took the combined efforts of both Hermione and Snape for him to be able to stand up and steady himself. When the two Heads walked back to their dorms, Hermione made sure to keep an eye on Draco, in case he loses his balance again.

"I've thought about Dumbledore's offer," Draco suddenly said. "And well… I think I should take it."

It took a few seconds for Hermione to recover from the shock. She beamed up at him and took him into a tight embrace. Draco could hardly breathe. He remembered that he had been jealous at Harry and Ron when Hermione hugged them that way. Now, he definitely changed his mind.

"Hermione," he wheezed, "I… can't… breathe…"

Hermione quickly let go, blushing. "Sorry," she muttered. "I just thought that it's great that you are going to accept his offer! I think you're going to do really well! Go tell Dumbledore! I'm sure he'll be really pleased! You're probably going to have to go through lots of training, but I'm positive that you are going to excel! I'm so happy for you!" She said all that in one breath.

Draco put his hands on her shoulders, and said, "Breathe, Hermione. Breathe."

Once again, Hermione blushed. Unfortunately for her, Draco noticed.

"Someone seems to blush a lot today," he said, smirking.

This only caused Hermione to blush deeper. Slowly, smiles spread on both Draco and Hermione's faces. They seem to be in that position for a while, their eyes locked on each other.

"Draco!" a shrill voice yelled, which made Draco and Hermione turn their heads toward the source of the noise.

It was Pansy Parkinson, standing at the end of the hallway.

"Draco!" she said again. "I've been looking for you everywhere! I've finally found you!" Only then did she notice that Draco wasn't alone. Her cheery face turned into an expression of disgust. "And what is _she_ doing here with you? Why would you even associate with such filth as the Mudblood?"

"We've had this conversation before." Draco was annoyed and his teeth were gritted. "It's _none_ of your business. Leave me _alone_."

Pansy walked toward them, keeping her eyes on Draco and smiling. This only made Draco extremely disgusted. She shoved Hermione aside, ignoring the outraged looks Hermione gave her, and took Hermione's place, still smiling.

"What the hell do you want, Pansy?" Draco asked, deeply annoyed. He stepped back toward Hermione.

"Come to the Winter Dance with me, Drakie," Pansy said, her lips sticking out in a pout and her finger tracing circles on Draco's chest. Draco pushed her away, disgusted.

"I'm already going with someone," he said. "And don't call me that."

Pansy frowned and shot a look at Hermione, who was looking at the both of them in shock. "Who?" Pansy asked.

"Hermione," Draco said loudly and clearly.

"Oh." Pansy surveyed Hermione nastily while twirling a lock of blond hair. "I didn't realize she's your _girlfriend_ now."

"She's not my girlfriend," Draco said. "But I'd rather go out with her than with you."

Pansy snorted. "You're going to change your mind soon enough," she said. "Then, you're going to crawl back to me, begging me to take you back."

"That'll be the day," Draco scoffed.

Pansy glared and stormed away, out of sight and out of earshot.

"Can you believe her?" Draco asked incredulously. "The nerve of her!"

Hermione shook her head. "Is it true though?" she asked.

"Is what true?" Draco asked, puzzled.

"That you would rather go out with me?" she asked.

"Of course!" he answered, thinking that it was the most obvious question a person could ask.

Hermione smiled sweetly, which made Draco's heart leap. Unconsciously, he smiled too.

"You're probably the most dateable person in the whole school," he said. Suddenly, he realized what words just came out of his mouth. He just said his thought out loud!

Hermione grinned. "No one had ever said that to me," she said.

"Then they should," he replied, not daring to look at her in case he started saying something unintentional again.

"How can such a conceited git be so sweet?" she asked, her smile never faltering.

"But I am a _charming_ and _handsome_ conceited git," he replied, smirking.

"Your over-inflated head does not need any more inflating," she said, rolling her eyes, but nevertheless grinning.

Together, they walked to their quarters, feeling like they've gotten Christmas, their birthdays, New Year's, Easter, and all of the other holidays all in one day. However, one thought still lingered in their minds: _Did we just _flirt

_She was running. Running as fast as she could through the forest. One hand was gripping onto someone else's hand. The other hand was clutching a pendant around her neck. She could hear footsteps behind her, as well as shouting. A flash of red light only nearly missed her. Her heart pounding in her chest, she accelerated. Slowly, the two-story cabin entered her view. _Finally!_ They continued running until they entered the clearing. They entered the cozy cabin and quickly locked the door. They darted upstairs. She leaned against the wall. Her breathing was very labored. _

"_Are you all right?" her companion asked worriedly._

"_I can't breathe," she replied. "The… corset!"_

_Her companion quickly loosened her corset. She sucked in generous gulps of air. _

"_Thank you," she said. _

_She felt herself being pulled into a hug. She melted into her companion, enjoying his body's warmth. She rested her head on his chest, and she felt tears rolling down her cheeks. They couldn't hide here forever. He absentmindedly played with her long, brown ringlets. She raised her head and looked into his steely gray eyes. For once in his life, he wasn't hiding his evident fear. She clutched at his fine tunic and cried. _

"_Please don't cry," he murmured to her. _

_Suddenly, something banged on the door below, making it shake. The wooden door wouldn't hold for long. _

"_I love you Katherine," he whispered in her ear._

"_I… love you… Jean-François," she said between sobs._

_Their lips met in a passionate kiss. They both put everything they had into that kiss, because there won't be a second one. She twisted a lock of his white-blond hair around her finger and continued kissing, ignoring the tears that were running down her cheeks. He deepened the kiss, and all the while, people tried to break in._

_They finally broke apart when the door finally gave way and splinters flew everywhere. Six armed men banged through, running up the stairs loudly. She was still in his arms when the men entered their room. The leader stepped forward; his face was contorted in fury. _

"_You have disappointed me, my son," he said. "Pity. The last minutes of your life spent with a Mudblood. That was your choice, and your choice has consequences."_

_He brandished a wand in front of him, and aimed at Katherine. Her hand immediately reached for her pendant. _

"_No Father!" Jean-François jumped in front of Katherine, shielding her. "Please don't kill her! Kill me instead!"_

"_No!" Katherine shrieked hysterically. "What are you doing?"_

"_You will both get your turn," the leader said, smirking. "And it doesn't matter who goes first. _Avada Kedavra_!"_

_With blinding green light and a rushing sound, Jean-François became a crumpled heap on the floor. Katherine screamed. She knelt down besides him and cried. She ran a finger down his cheek, never ceasing her sobbing. _

"_How could you do this?" she yelled at the leader. "He was your son!"_

"_And he disobeyed me!" he said furiously. "_Avada Kedavra_!"_

_She could see the jet of green light speeding toward her and she screamed…_

Hermione awoke with a start. She was tangled in her bed sheets and drenched in cold sweat. Her hair was plastered on her forehead. She was breathing heavily, like she just ran a marathon. Her fingers were tightly wrapped around the pendant, still under her pillow. She could see that the pendant made deep, bright reddish-purple marks on her hand. Suddenly, the whole dream came to her mind again, and she remembered every single detail and scene… But, what was that all about?


	8. The Snowflake

_**Chapter 8**_

**The Snowflake**

The next morning, when Hermione woke up, she felt like she hadn't slept at all last night. She felt sore all over, like she actually ran, like the girl in the dream. Except, now that she thought about it, in the dream, she _was_ the girl named Katherine. The more she thought about the dream, the clearer every image became. Then she realized that she had dreamt about Katherine Jones and Jean-François Malfoy! It was probably their last moment together, before they both died, but how can she be sure? It had to have something to do with that pendant! Quickly, Hermione reached under her pillow and withdrew the piece of jewelry. She turned it around and around quickly, unable to find any writing to indicate any kind of meaning to her dream.

She sighed and just when she was about throw it back under her pillow, did she notice something sticking out of the crack between the emerald and the silver backing. She tried to pull it out, but it wouldn't budge. Frowning, she turned it and saw tiny, almost invisible hinges on the other side. Her heart thumping with excitement, she tried to dig her nail in between the crack, but was incapable of opening it, thanks to her bitten nails. She groaned. She would just take it to Draco then.

She set it aside and walked lethargically to the bathroom. After she had washed up, she decided to head down to the Great Hall for some breakfast. Christmas vacation had started already, but hardly any student had decided to go home because of the dance. The first years were particularly ecstatic, since they had never had a chance to go to a Hogwarts dance before. So Hermione wasn't surprised to see the Great Hall crowded, like any other normal school day.

She took a seat at the Gryffindor table, as far from Harry and Ron as possible. In truth, she did miss them, but she wasn't going to admit that out loud. She really missed Ron's quirky jokes and the mere comfort of having Harry beside her. After being best friends for over six years, and getting through so much together, the "breakup" was a stabbing pain to her heart. She didn't know how they felt, but she hoped that they felt the same way she did. They always found a way to make up with each other, but she wasn't sure about this time. She didn't want to lose her best friends forever, but she wasn't going to apologize for being right! She knew that her stubbornness would cost her one-day, but a person just doesn't change overnight.

Sadly, she started to eat some of her food. She caught Dumbledore's eye, and he smiled. He beckoned Hermione over to the staff table and she obeyed.

"Meet me in my office in about twenty minutes," he said. "Tell Mr. Malfoy to come also."

"Yes, sir," she said. "See you later."

She took a deep breath and walked over to the Slytherin table. As she walked down the row, she ignored the other students pointing at her and whispering. She knew what they were saying anyway. They were probably spreading some new rumor about Draco and her. She saw Pansy leaning on Draco, seemingly unable to keep her hands to herself. Just seeing her like that made Hermione's blood boil and her stomach turn over, threatening to let out the breakfast that she just ate. However, Draco offered her comfort by looking very disgusted and shoving Pansy away.

"Draco," she said.

Draco and Pansy looked up, as well as several other Slytherins. Pansy smirked and leaned on Draco even more, which did not help with Hermione's anger at all. Draco shoved her away as far as possible.

"Good morning Hermione," he said, all the while keeping a watchful eye on Pansy. "Is something up?"

"Dumbledore wants us to meet him in his office in about twenty minutes," she said.

"I'll go with you," he said, relieved to have found an excuse to get away from Pansy. He grabbed a slice of bread and rose from his seat. Together, they headed toward the Headmaster's office.

While they were walking, Hermione told Draco about her discovery. He seemed very interested in the parchment stuck in the pendant, and was delighted to help. They had fun guessing what the parchment could contain, while they waited for Professor Dumbledore to arrive. When he did, they plunged right into the matter at hand, but they didn't mention anything about the pendant to Dumbledore.

"I need you to help the staff deliver some of these invitations for the dance." Dumbledore gestured the piles of envelopes on the desks.

"Why not use owls?" Draco asked, always the lazier one.

"Because if students have any questions about the dance," Dumbledore answered, "then you can answer them directly and save a lot of time, since you've planned everything."

The explanation seemed plausible enough.

"Hermione," Dumbledore said, "you can deliver some to the Gryffindors. Just take a stack with you and go to the common room. If they're not there, just bring the rest to me and we'll use the owls to reach them. Same for you Draco, except you deliver these to the Slytherins. If you wish, you can help us decorate the Great Hall. You've done a lot for this Christmas already, so you've earned every right to relax."

Taking a stack of envelopes each, Draco and Hermione parted. Hermione went up to the seventh floor and stopped in front of the Fat Lady. She said the password and crawled through the portrait hole, seeing the common room crowded and noisy. She spotted Harry and Ron immediately; they were playing chess. She looked at the name on the first envelope. Lavender Brown. It was a good thing that Dumbledore had given her only the invitations of seventh years. She knew all of her fellow classmates.

Lavender was chatting with Parvati Patil. She approached her and handed her the invitation.

"Hermione," Lavender said, when she extended a hand to take the parchment. "Who are you going to the dance with?"

"Why?" she asked cautiously.

"We just want to know!" Parvati said.

"Draco," she said.

To her surprise, the two of them squealed and giggled.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"He's quite good-looking now," Lavender said. "He's so charming, and… sexy…"

"You're so lucky Hermione," Parvati said.

"But didn't you think that I shouldn't be meddling with his kind?" she asked.

"We've thought about it and we've decided that you really do have a good reason to like him!" Lavender said.

"I don't like him like that!" she protested. "Dumbledore told us to go to the dance together."

"See? Even Dumbledore knows that there's _chemistry_ between you two!" Parvati said.

Hermione rolled her eyes and handed Parvati her invitation. Then she left, ignoring Lavender and Parvati's persistent giggles. They were so ditzy that they were hopeless. Finally, she was down to the last two envelopes in the stack. To her horror, one was addressed to Harry, and the other was to Ron. She put her guard up and armed herself with several insults before cautiously approaching them.

"Your invitations to the dance," Hermione said monotonously.

She handed them the invitations to them without looking at them. She pursed her lips as Ron's fingers brushed against her hand.

"Thanks," Harry muttered.

She nodded curtly and was about to exit the common room when she was stopped.

"Hermione," a voice next to her said.

She turned around and saw Ginny Weasley.

"Hi Ginny!" Hermione said. "How are you? I haven't spoken to you for a while."

"I'm fine," Ginny said. "I hope you are too. So… have you got a date for the upcoming dance?"

"Is that what _everyone_ is talking about now?" Hermione said half-jokingly, half-desperately. "There is no other topic of conversation! It's always the dance this, the dance that!"

"It's one of the biggest events this year," Ginny said. "Of course everyone talks about it! This is Hogwarts! What did you expect?"

"Never this much talk," Hermione admitted. "And to answer your question… I do have a date to the dance and it's none other than Draco Malfoy. I know you haven't spoken to me after you found out that we were friends, but Dumbledore made us go together, so—"

"Actually, I was never really particular about the idea of you guys being friends," she said. "I just never really got a chance to talk to you about it, especially when Ron's always pulling me away when I try to approach you, in case you didn't notice. In fact, I think that befriending Malfoy is a good thing. We really should exercise inter-House unity. And nobody should really care about whom you want to be friends with. The school is just overeating to the whole thing as usual."

"Thank you so much Ginny. I'm very glad to hear it," Hermione said.

"You're welcome," she said, "but I need to take you shopping for dress robes!"

"I don't need to," Hermione protested. "Maybe I can try on my old robes. They probably still fit…"

"No," she said firmly. "I am taking you to a shopping spree and that's final."

"But I have a lot to do…" Hermione said.

"You can do all that afterwards," Ginny said. "We have a Hogsmeade trip this weekend. Plus," Ginny leaned in closer and whispered, "this is _Draco Malfoy_ we're talking about" in such a way that reminded Hermione of Parvati and Lavender.

Hermione groaned, but finally agreed to the plans, which made Ginny beam up at her.

Hogsmeade weekend came and still not a single flake of snow fell. While walking with Ginny in the crammed streets, Hermione overheard an old witch comment on the lack of snow to her friend. Some newspapers even reported the absence of snow. The sky was gray and the air was exceptionally cold, the distinct signs of winter. The witches and wizards in Hogsmeade actually created fake snow, to get into the Christmas spirit.

Many of the shops' owners came out to decorate their stores with mistletoes, Christmas trees, real and fake elves, bells, Santa Clauses, and the like. Despite the lack of snow, everyone seemed to be in the spirit of Christmas. There was not a single sullen face in sight. Even Hermione was able to momentarily forget her schoolwork and just have fun, which included giggling and gossiping with Ginny. For once in her life, she felt like a normal girl.

"So what kind of dress do you have in mind?" Ginny asked.

"I don't really have any kind in mind," Hermione replied. "I just don't want anything that's too flashy."

Ginny nodded.

"Who are you going to the dance with?" Hermione asked.

Ginny blushed a shade of dark crimson. "Harry," she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

Hermione felt her jaw drop. "I thought you didn't like Harry anymore," she said. "You dated so many boys from school."

"Well…" Ginny's face turned into a shade of burgundy. "I was dating all those other guys to convince myself that I don't like him anymore, but… it didn't work."

Hermione smiled. And just when she was about to tease Ginny more, did Ginny point out a store in front of them.

"There!" Ginny said excitedly. "Madam Rosen's! It's the best place for dress robes."

Ginny grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her toward the little shop. Like all the other shops in Hogsmeade, this one was also decorated by a lot of Christmas things. There was even a charmed Santa Claus outside of the shop that said greetings to passersby. Ginny pushed the door open, never relinquishing Hermione's arm, and a bell sounded above. The store was rather crammed, full of dresses of various styles and colors. Hermione didn't know why, but she had the sudden urge to try on all of the dress robes in the store. Going shopping with a girl during Christmastime must be doing something to her brain, she concluded.

A smiling woman came from the back of the store to greet them warmly.

"Hello," she said in a cheery voice. "How may I help you ladies?"

"We're looking for dress robes, apparently," Ginny said. "My friend doesn't want anything too flashy."

"All right," the woman said. "Is there a specific kind that you would prefer? Like the color or the material?"

"Would you mind if we just look around?" Hermione asked.

"Of course not!" the woman said. "The fitting rooms are in the back and just call me if you need me."

Immediately, Ginny began her hunt, and Hermione walked around, not even knowing where to start.

"Hermione!" Ginny called. "I think this would look great on you."

She held up a blood red, knee-length dress, whose collar dipped quite low. Hermione raised her eyebrow at Ginny and avidly shook her head. Ginny held up several dresses for Hermione, but she refused every one of them. Ginny was getting desperate, until Hermione finally found something that she was looking for. The dress was beautiful, but it was quite simple. It was black with green, wavy ribbons sewn on the front. The collar didn't dip too low, and the back was completely covered. It also had long sleeves that opened at the end. It was long and made out of velvet. Ginny approved of it and Hermione quickly went to the fitting rooms to change. As much as she hated to feel this way, but she thought that she looked pretty good. The dress hugged her curves quite nicely. When Ginny saw her, she couldn't believe it.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed. "I didn't know you looked this good! You should really stop weary those loose garments and actually try to look like a girl! You look great! Imagine how beautiful you'd be with a little makeup and your hair done! Malfoy's going to love it!"

"Thanks Ginny," she said, blushing.

This convinced her to buy the dress. It was on sale, therefore, it wasn't too expensive. She waited for Ginny to put on her own dress robes. Ginny looked stunning in her dress. It was a strapless, red dress with red and black folds at the bottom. It even came with a pair of elbow-length gloves. After they made their purchases, they left the store. Together, they did their Christmas shopping. This was the first time that she actually decided to buy something for Draco, and she found that it was quite a challenge. What do you buy for someone who already had everything? But she still managed. She also bought some things for Harry and Ron.

The air outside was still bitterly cold, so Hermione suggested that they should warm up by getting some butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. There, they met up with Harry and Ron, although Hermione was hesitant to join their table. Almost immediately, Harry and Ginny started flirting. Hermione had nothing to do, but to drink her butterbeer and twirl her thumbs, not really wanting to talk to Ron. Slowly, however, the two of them started to engage themselves in a civil conversation. They were making small talk, but it was better than nothing.

When Hermione finally arrived at her dorm that evening, she was tired, but she thought the day wasn't a complete waste of time, unlike what she had thought before. She got one of her best friends back, and she was completely prepared for the Winter Dance. She lied down on her bed and prepared to take a nap. When she was semi-conscious, she wondered how Draco would look once he saw her in the dress robes she just bought.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows together. "Hum…" he said, with the pendant in his hand. He could feel Hermione's intense gaze on him. He dug his fingernail in between the cracks and it opened. It turned out to hold a small, folded piece of parchment. Setting down the pendant, he unfolded the note. His frown deepened as he read what was on the paper.

"What is it?" Hermione asked impatiently and eagerly.

He handed the paper to her. In a neat, elegant script, was written:

_Notre amour est vrai. Nous avons detesté chaque autre. Mais nous sommes unis maintenant. Notre vie était romantique. Notre mort était tragique. C'était parce que notre tragédie qu'un malédiction était créé. Juste deux personnes peuvent casser ce malédiction selon la prophétie. JK et JFM_

Hermione looked up confused. "I still don't know what it means," she said. "Isn't it French?"

"It means: 'our love is real. We hated each other. But we're united now. Our life was romantic. Our death was tragic. It was because of our tragedy that a curse was created. Only two people can break this curse, according to the prophecy.'" Draco said. "But I don't know what the letters at the end means."

"Katherine Jones and Jean-François Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed. "For History of Magic, Harry, Ron, and I did a project on Loup Malfoy and they were mentioned."

"That makes sense now…" Draco muttered. "But what curse? What prophecy? Which two people?"

"I don't know…" Hermione said thoughtfully. "I don't know…"

It was Christmas Eve, but Hermione didn't even have time to get into the spirit of Christmas. In fact, Hermione ended up in the library once again because of the curse and the prophecy. Despite the couple days of research, she still did not find any details about the prophecy. Once it was five o'clock already, she quickly left the library, going to her room to get ready for the Winter Dance. She and Draco had to be there earlier than the rest of the school to do some last-minute checks.

She had planned everything well and had checked and double-checked. She even applied this process to the hairstyle that she wanted for the dance. She decided that straightening her hair was too much work, something she learned from the Yule Ball in fourth year. Instead, she decided that she would take advantage of her curls, but will tame them a bit. After she was done with everything, she looked at herself in the mirror and smiled in various ways, just to see which smiles to use and which ones not to. Feeling satisfied she went back to her room to get her planning papers. Draco would be waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs outside the Great Hall, where the dance will be taking place.

As she descended the stairs, she wondered what made Ginny convince her to wear those high heels. Sure, they made her petite form look taller, but still, they were a pain. She could see Draco's blond hair glimmer under the candlelight, and her heart pounded. He was looking the other way, talking to Professor Dumbledore, but Hermione still could not help but to feel extremely nervous. The butterflies in her stomach kept multiplying until she thought that she wouldn't be able to handle them anymore.

It was Professor Dumbledore who first looked up and saw her. His enchanting blue eyes twinkled and he smiled. This caused Draco to look behind him and see Hermione. His eyes widened at the sight before him. Hermione looked stunningly pretty. Her long black dress flowed behind her, slightly brushing the stairs. Her hair was tied into a semi-bun, and her untied brown hair cascaded down her back in soft waves. She was smiling, and her cheeks were tinted pink from blushing. Her posture was straight and confident, and her hand delicately grazed the railing.

Hermione's heart fluttered when she saw Draco's look of approval. She felt her cheeks starting to burn and a smile creeping onto her face. Draco smiled at her too and offered her his arm as she arrived at the foot of the stairs. She gladly took it and they entered the majesty of the Great Hall. Expectedly, it was still empty, but students would be filing in about half an hour.

The Great Hall was lavishly decorated. Red and green were everywhere. There were several small, round tables, each with candles that gave off a faint, red or green light. Christmas trees stood over fifteen feet tall in all of their grandeur and abundance of colorful decorations. Minute fairies flew around in the air, giving off sparks of light. The enchanted ceiling showed a particularly starry night. The candles that floated in midair near the ceiling diminished some of the stars' brilliance. Christmas ribbons were hung everywhere. There were many banners that glittered with holiday greetings. Clusters of balloons were everywhere.

Draco and Hermione looked around admiringly and satisfactorily. Their hard work certainly paid off. They closed the Great Hall doors, as they made sure everything was in place and according to plan. The last thing they needed was for students to barge in when they weren't ready for them yet. Finally, everything was set and they opened the Great Hall doors, first letting in the loud chatter outside. Every person that had stepped in stopped for a moment to admire the Great Hall's splendor.

Hermione immediately spotted Ginny on Harry's arm. They quickly engaged themselves in animated talk. The two couples found a table and sat down together, much to Harry and Draco's displeasure. Ron and Lavender soon joined them, although Ron seemed reluctant. Much to Hermione's annoyance, Lavender quickly grabbed a seat by Draco.

Soon, Pansy Parkinson passed by their table, her head held high and steering Blaise Zabini, her date, away. Draco didn't even bother to look at her. When everyone was settled at a table, menus appeared out of thin air. They each ordered something, and instantaneously, plates of food materialized. During the meal, the girls were chatting happily, while the boys muttered a word here and there. Hermione knew that there was still tension between them. Also, she couldn't help but feel irritated when Lavender kept throwing glances at Draco. Luckily for Lavender, Ron didn't notice.

In the middle of dinner, Hermione was distracted from her conversation with Ginny, when a loud burst of applause and cheers sounded. She turned around in her seat and saw the Weird Sisters enter the Great Hall. The staff greeted the band members. After they were settled, they started playing a mid-tempo song. The lights dimmed, and a disco ball appeared from the ceiling. Some first years squealed. Many students got up from their table and already started dancing. Lavender quickly dragged Ron away onto the dance floor, despite his protests.

"This dance is wonderful Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Thank you!" Hermione said. "But don't forget to credit Draco too!"

Dinner was over. Ginny and Harry also went to the dance floor.

"I never thought the Great Hall could look this good," Hermione remarked, looking around.

"You designed most of this," Draco said.

"Without you, it wouldn't look half as good," Hermione said.

Once again, they found themselves smiling at each other. Draco was the first one to snap out of the trance. He stood up and held out his hand, "Would you like to dance, my fair lady?" he asked. This made Hermione's smile broaden. She stood up and curtsied a little mockingly, "That would be my pleasure," she said and placed her hand on Draco's.

Strangely, she only just noticed how perfect her hand fit in his.

He led her onto the dance floor. Hermione was not a really good dancer, but Draco's every step and every move were graceful. All she had to do was follow, and it made her seem graceful too, when she really was rather clumsy. The whole time, their eyes never left each other's. It was a fast song, so when it finally ended, Hermione needed a few seconds to catch her breath.

The next song came on and Hermione felt more nervous than she already was. It was a slow song, and she knew that something was going to happen. Something always did in movies and novels. Hermione wrapped her hands around Draco's neck and he lightly rested his hands on her waist. Hermione almost felt like a sponge, absorbing every note in the song. Everything came so naturally. She rested her head on Draco's shoulder, and this surprised him a little, but she didn't move her head. Gradually, they moved closer to each other, mostly unconsciously. Hermione had never felt this good when she was in Ron's arms.

Though they were unaware, Pansy Parkinson was watching them intently from over Blaise's shoulder. A mixture of hatred and jealousy was burning in her eyes as she watched the couple dance across the Great Hall. How she wished that it were _her_ who was in Draco's arms…

When the song ended, Hermione almost felt disappointed. They parted and Draco said that he was going to get some drinks for themselves. She walked away from the dance floor to wait for Draco. Harry and Ron cornered her there.

"Was it just me or were you _really_ close to Malfoy?" Ron asked.

"Why does it matter?" Hermione asked.

"He's the enemy!" Ron protested. "He was and always will be!"

"He's changed!" Hermione said. "Why don't you give him a chance? Will you ever stop with those childish grudges? He's _not_ bad!"

"Stop being so stubborn!" Ron said. "He's a player! He'll hurt you!"

"If you keep saying that, the only person who's going to get hurt is you," a voice said from behind Ron.

Draco had arrived with pumpkin juice. He handed a goblet to Hermione, and she gladly took it, feeling thirsty all of a sudden. All the while, Draco ignored Ron's glares. Hermione brought the goblet to her lips.

"Don't drink that Hermione!" Ron said. She lowered her goblet and looked at him in disbelief.

"I have no use in poisoning her, you know," Draco said.

"Will you stop with the suspicion?" Hermione said. "Why don't you just trust Draco for once?"

"How can anyone trust that git?" Ron asked. "You are so _stupid _and _ignorant_!"

Ron then realized that he had just crossed the line. He stared at Hermione, wondering what she would do. Hermione was seething and her hand was shaking.

"We'll see who's the stupid and ignorant one," she said in a dangerously low voice.

Abruptly, she splashed her pumpkin juice on Ron's face and chucked the empty goblet at his forehead. Both Harry and Draco were trying to conceal smiles. Ron was disbelieving. He was literally speechless.

"I need some fresh air," Hermione said, and headed to the exit, walking very fast.

When she was already going down the stairs did a voice shout behind her, "Wait!" Draco came hurrying after her.

She stopped in her tracks, waiting for Draco to catch up. They took a seat on the steps, looking up at the stars. They were like jewels on a black veil… Hermione sighed. The night was so beautiful, and so quiet… There was no Ron to yell at how stupid she was for befriending Draco.

"You should just ignore the idiot," Draco said softly, breaking the peaceful silence.

"I really can't," Hermione said. "And he's my friend…"

At these words, Hermione envisioned all the happy times they spent together, fighting side by side with Harry. She also saw the many memorable moments they spent when they were dating. She remembered the happiness and fun they had felt for being best friends for over six years. How could anyone give away such good memories?

"But is he really your friend for doing all that to you?" Draco asked, breaking her chain of thought.

Then, Hermione recalled all the times that they bickered incessantly. She remembered the events in third year, when Ron wrongfully accused her cat of eating Scabbers. She saw those times when Ron ignored her, always tagging along Harry. And the sharpest memory yet: when Ron broke off the relationship that they had for a year and a half. And now, Ron was treating her like some kind of a criminal, just because she befriended Draco.

Her blood boiled. Draco was probably right. But the hurt was terrible to bear. Was Ron really never her true friend? Was she wasting her time on a fake friendship? She still believed that Ron was a real friend to her, but… what about all those times when he was so mean to her? She was confused, angry, and hurt. What was she supposed to do? Who was she supposed to believe? Tears uncontrollably welled up in her eyes.

Draco put one around her shoulders and held her close, putting his chin on the top of her head. "Don't cry," he whispered to her. "He's nothing to cry about."

Hermione forcibly blinked back her tears. She really shouldn't cry. There was nothing to be crying about. She smiled up at Draco, who smiled back. Her heart fluttered inside her chest. He was truly the only one who could make her heart pound so hard with merely a smile. It felt so good to be in his arms. It was so warm and cozy… It never felt so right to be in his arms. It was wonderful how perfectly they fit together.

Draco was not unaffected either. She looked so beautiful. Her chestnut eyes glittered brilliantly from the fairy lights around them. Her elegant lips were stretched into a gorgeous smile. She was almost looked unreal. He wouldn't have been surprised if she suddenly sprouted large, white, feathery wings. She had radiance about her, even when she was sad. He really did like her a lot. He held her closer.

Hermione felt like she was in heaven, basking in his body's warmth. She snuggled against him, but was soon stopped, when his index finger and thumb tilted her chin up. She looked into his silver eyes, mystified by them, almost hypnotized. Their faces moved closer, and Draco's lips lightly brushed on hers. She could feel a pleasant tingling in her body. She longed for a kiss, and Draco knew it, because he felt the same thing.

He kissed her softly, and tenderly, quite unlike what she had expected. She kissed him back, putting all of her fears and insecurities into that kiss. They could almost hear the fireworks above their heads. Draco deepened the kiss, bringing them even closer together. Hermione's hand reached above, playing with his silky hair. They were oblivious when the very first snowflake of the year danced down from the heavens and fell onto the ground next to them.

They were blocked out from everything, which turned out to be a mistake later. They never noticed the dark figure in the shadows taking so many incriminating pictures.


	9. Initiation Ceremony and Blackmail

_**Chapter 9**_

**Initiation Ceremony and Blackmail**

The Hogwarts grounds were a truly beautiful sight the next morning. It served as a reminder of last night's magical festivities, especially to Draco and Hermione. The unspoiled white snow outside coated the ground, the barren trees, the greenhouses, Hogwarts Castle, and Hagrid's hut, making it look like a gingerbread house. The snow had stopped falling, and the whole Hogwarts grounds seemed to be covered with cake frosting. It finally looked like a real Christmas Day.

Inside Hogwarts itself, the students crowded around the frozen windows, looking down at the magnificence of the grounds. Even the presents seemed to be forgotten for a moment. The first two words that came into Harry and Ron's minds were "snow fight". Although, they knew that it was rather childish, the game never ceased to be fun. Even the teachers looked out of their windows in awe. Dumbledore, however, just smiled as he looked on into the distance. So they did it. And the first snowflake of the year fell. The prophecy did not lie. His plan was working. It all came down to the dreaded Final Battle against Voldemort. He and the Order had planned meticulously for it. He just hoped it wouldn't all be in vain.

The students were now tackling the piles of presents at the feet of their beds. Hermione felt relieved that Harry and Ron haven't decided to fully abandon her, even if all they did give her were some sweets from Honeydukes. But, she reasoned with herself, that was what she gave the both of them too anyway. Her parents sent her the usual presents with a Christmas card. After opening all her presents, she found the last package. Who could it have been from? She had already opened the usual presents from the usual senders… She picked up the small box wrapped in green and silver paper. There was a tag attached to the bow. Her heart pounded furiously against her ribcage. It was from Draco! Carefully, she unwrapped the glossy paper, afraid that it would tear. It revealed a red velvet box, slightly bigger than a ring box. She opened it and gasped.

It was one of the most beautiful necklaces she had ever seen. On a thin, gold chain was a ruby pendant surrounded by tiny diamonds. Every gemstone and lock of the chain seemed genuine. It must have cost a fortune! She couldn't accept such a lavish gift! Draco was rich, but he didn't have to spend so much money on her! She knew that he really liked her already. She had to give this back to him. Nevertheless, Hermione felt flattered that he was willing to spend so much on her.

Meanwhile, Draco sat in his room alone, opening the last of his presents. Although Hermione's present was simple, he found that it was the most precious and it was the most practical gift out of everything he had received. She gave him a sleek, black, leather journal with a letter and Christmas card to match. No one had ever given him a Christmas card before. His family and fellow Slytherins didn't believe in such things. He put the card by his bedside and unfolded the letter. In Hermione's neat script, it said:

_Dear Draco,_

_I hope that you have a very happy Christmas. You are the one person who really need and deserve this break. Our times together have been special, and I long for more time for us to be together. One of the best things about being with you is that I got the opportunity to learn more about you. That's why I've decided to buy you a journal, something I know that you don't have. You're probably thinking that this is stupid and pointless, and are about to throw this in the trash at the first occasion. But let me tell you the importance of this first. You can write down your deepest and darkest secrets and thoughts. It really helps if you want to take pressure off from your shoulders. Trust me, it helps at lot. _

_Anyways, have a wonderful Christmas and I hope you take my advice._

_Yours truly,_

_Hermione Granger_

He should just to Hermione's advice. It was common courtesy. After all, she wasn't there to harm him. She was just trying to help, though he didn't think that he needed any. Also, he felt that Hermione might actually be checking on him, just to see if he was using the journal. He didn't want to hurt her. It was pathetic how care could do to a person. It was a strange feeling. He had never felt it back home in Malfoy Manor.

His eagle owl swooped in from his open window, dropping a letter. He knew that it was probably from either one of her parents, but they had already sent him his presents… He picked up the rolled parchment and untied the green ribbon. It was from his father. His curiosity was piqued, but apprehension still lingered. What did he want now?

_Draco,_

_I'm glad that you finally decided to join the Dark Lord's ranks. I expect you to do your very best and remember all the spells I've taught you. They would come in useful during the Initiation Ceremony, which is to be held next month, on the twentieth, at four o'clock. You will be excused from the last minutes of class. Someone will be waiting for you in Hogsmeade to take you away. Do not disappoint me. You are the youngest person ever to join the Dark Lord, and He expects a lot from you, and so do I._

_Happy Christmas and you better show up in Hogsmeade, or you will deeply regret it._

_Your Father,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

He sighed. His father was the only person who was capable of wishing him a happy Christmas and threatening him all in the same sentence. The little happiness that he felt for Christmas vanished in the air. It was so like his father to quench the smidgen of joy that was supposed to be his Christmas spirit by reminding him of his soon-to-be Death Eater duties. Hermione would want to know about this, but how was he supposed to tell her? He'd have to wait until the holidays are over. He didn't want to ruin everything for her by bringing up this worrisome subject. He sighed again. Sometimes he wished so desperately that he wasn't a Malfoy. Screw the Malfoy Code of Conduct. Screw his father. Screw the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. He just wanted to be himself. Too bad that was never going to happen in this lifetime. Oh how he hated being stuck like this all the time, wondering what to do.

Heading down for breakfast, Draco and Hermione met in the common room. Hermione still held the necklace in her hand.

"Hey Draco," she said, smiling. "Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas to you too," he said. "Thank you for that journal. I think it might help." _Not really_, he thought, but he was not going to tell that to Hermione.

"I'm glad you like it!" Hermione beamed, oblivious to Draco's white lie. "But…" She looked at the box in her hand. "As for me, I can't accept your gift. I love it, but I really can't."

Draco felt hurt. "Why not?" he asked, masking his feelings by looking emotionless.

"Because it must have cost a whole lot," Hermione said. "I can't accept anything that's so expensive."

That was the reason? Draco could have laughed right out loud in her face, but restrained himself. "Remember that I'm supposed to be a 'spoiled, rich bastard'?" he asked. "That wasn't expensive to me."

"But I still can't—" Hermione protested.

"Come on Hermione," he said. "I had to eat up my Slytherin pride to buy you that red and gold necklace. Do you know how much effort that took me?"

That was probably true. "Yes, but you made up for you by using that green and silver wrapper," Hermione said, knowing that this argument was too weak to hold.

Draco laughed and walked closer to Hermione. "Consider this as my token of gratitude toward you for helping me when I needed it."

Hermione smiled and jumped toward Draco, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she said, and kissed him on the lips. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Hum…" Draco said thoughtfully. "I'll make it easy for you. More of those kisses might just cut it."

She smiled and obliged.

This year's Christmas was one of the most memorable for Hermione. Although she missed participating in Harry and Ron's games, she still felt that the day was superb. Hermione had the opportunity to discuss so many things with Draco. It truly felt good to have an intelligent conversation once in a while, something that she definitely didn't have when she was with Harry and Ron. She played chess with Draco and many other games. At the end of the day, she was singing Christmas carols, but Draco was looking at her like she just lost her mind. No matter how hard she tried to persuade him into singing with her, he vehemently refused. So she shrugged it off and continued singing, prancing around the common room, with Draco looking at her with one raised eyebrow. At that night, Hermione went to bed feeling content, and wondering what surprises the next day would bring. Draco's thoughts, however, dwelled on the Death Eater Initiation Ceremony and what he was going to tell Hermione.

The next few days passed and the Draco still hasn't mustered the courage to tell Hermione about the ceremony. He hadn't found a right time either. She seemed so happy, and he didn't want to spoil her happiness. But he would have to tell her sooner or later, in case she starts worrying about him when he suddenly leaves.

Draco sat in the library, doing his Potions essay. Hermione was in another corner of the library, doing her own essay. They made sure that they weren't seen together, especially at such a dangerous time when spies were lurking around in every corner. If anyone learned of their relationship, all of Draco and Dumbledore's plans would be ruined. It was crucial for them not to show any change in their behavior. They still kept a cool demeanor toward each other in public, but they weren't insulting each other, due to the fact that the whole school knew that they were sort of friends already. Still, they kept away from each other, so as to not suggest anything more.

However, this didn't stop them from subtly passing notes to each other, as a form of communication. Draco found that this was the best time for him to tell Hermione about his situation. Telling her in writing was so much easier than to tell her in person. Hermione was a little horrified, but it was all expected. When they were back in their common room, Hermione gave Draco all the support she could.

A couple of days later, Hermione convinced Draco to inform Dumbledore of these new developments. Dumbledore suggested that he takes these matters to Snape, who would oversee Draco's spy training, being a spy himself. Draco was quite shocked to find that Snape was a spy all this time, but swore that he would not reveal anything to anyone. So Draco spent most of his nights training with Snape. Hermione could only study by herself, wishing that he were by her side.

The days passed smoothly, until one day, when Pansy cornered Hermione in the hallway. Only one sentence was spoken between them, but it had a lasting effect on Hermione.

"Stay away from Draco or you will regret it," she said dangerously.

This had caught her off-guard, and she spent many nights wondering if Pansy's words should be ignored. Hermione did notice Pansy's angry, furtive glances during class and other times. Whenever Hermione and Draco were working together on something in class, Pansy would look murderous. There was something going on that Hermione didn't know of, or Pansy wouldn't be so assured that she would actually smirk evilly at Hermione one day. She had a strong feeling that Pansy knew more about Draco and her, so she tried to distance herself even more from Draco. There was certainly something brewing in Pansy's twisted mind.

When she brought up her concerns to Draco, he shrugged it off.

"Pansy always makes those empty threats," he said. "Just ignore her."

However, Pansy seemed too serious to be ignored. There was definitely something going on and Hermione was determined to find out.

Draco had insisted on going to the Slytherin common room to visit his "friends" and to tell them that he was going to be a Death Eater. He conveniently forgot to inform them that he was also a spy. This revelation made it seem like he got his reputation back for being the most feared and respected person in Slytherin House. The people who weren't speaking to him were treating him like an old friend again. It was pathetic, really.

"Hey Drakie," a female voice whispered in his right ear, making him jump.

He backed away, and saw Pansy. She smiled seductively, and grabbed Draco's arm, leading him into another room. The moment they entered the room, away from his other housemates, Pansy's air changed. She closed the door and pushed Draco against the wall when he was caught off-guard.

"What the hell do you want?" Draco asked, shoving Pansy's hands off of him, and getting away from the wall.

"I want you to stay away from the Mudblood if you know what's good for you," she said in a dangerously low voice, quite uncharacteristic of her.

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. "And what are _you_ going to do?" he asked scornfully.

Pansy smirked and withdrew a package from her robes pocket. She took out a picture and held it up so that Draco could see it. He could feel his jaw dropping to the floor. It was of him and Hermione during the dance, and they were kissing! He grabbed the picture from Pansy's hand and stared at it, horrified. He was still speechless, eying the incriminating picture. Pansy was blackmailing him! He tore the picture to shreds and made a grab for the whole package, but Pansy kept it just out of reach, her smirk getting nastier.

"If you become _my_ boyfriend, and stay away from the Mudblood," she said, "then I won't send all these pictures to your father."

"What?" he asked incredulously, and made another grab for those pictures, but missed again.

"You heard me," Pansy said, her smirk never leaving her face. "Oh and be extra bad to Granger, just for kicks," she added as an afterthought.

"No way!" he said, pinning Pansy to the wall and tried to make another mad grab for the pictures. His fingers even brushed on it, but still, he didn't get it. Both were struggling.

Pansy pulled out her wand, and chocked out, "_Impedimenta_!"

Draco found himself being slowed down. Why didn't he bring his wand with him? How stupid it was!

"Now you listen to me," Pansy said, forgetting to smirk, her tone set severely. "You do what I say, and your dear father won't know anything about your little love affair with Granger. And even if you do destroy this package"—she held it out in front of her—"I have about ten more copies. You might just find that it is useless to try to destroy them. Do I make myself clear?"

"Why are you doing this to me?" he asked her angrily, the Impediment Jinx still working on him.

"I think you already know the answer to that question," she said simply.

With a wave of her wand, the Impediment Jinx was removed from Draco.

"Now let's see if this is working," she said. "Kiss me."

"Are you out of your mind?" Draco said, pushing Pansy away from him.

Pansy sighed. "Dear Mr. Malfoy," she began, "I am delighted to inform you that your son, Draco…"

"Fine," Draco said, giving in. What else could he do? He kissed her very briefly, his lips barely touching hers.

"That wasn't a kiss," Pansy said angrily. "Kiss me."

Draco made no move. Pansy pulled at the front of his robes, and pulled him down and kissed him passionately. He tried to get away, but couldn't, finding the collar of his robes were cutting into his skin. All the time, he thought about Hermione and how she would react if she saw what was happening. It was an eternity before Pansy pulled away.

"The next time you kiss me," she said, "that is how you're supposed to do it."

She turned around and just when she was about to leave, she turned around again.

"Oh and if you tell this to your Mudblood," she said, "you will find that your pictures would already be in your father's hands."

Draco gritted his teeth angrily as he watched her leave. He couldn't believe that this was happening. He couldn't tell Hermione, because Pansy always found a way to spy on him. The worst thing about the whole blackmail was that Pansy had him completely wrapped around her little finger. He couldn't do anything to resist, or he would betray the Order, and fail in his mission as a spy. He would get killed and Voldemort might actually win the Great War. He dropped on the floor and hung his head in his hands. Things were turning worse by the day, and he found himself asking himself the same question again: What am I going to do?

Draco tried to avoid Hermione as much as possible during the next days. Whenever she caught up with him, he would make some excuse and escape as fast as he could, especially when they were in public. He could see the hurt and confusion on her face, but he couldn't do anything about it. Not only was he avoiding Hermione, he was trying as hard as he could to avoid Pansy too. So far, he managed to get away from both of them, but his luck was about to run out.

It was another Potions class, one of the few classes that Draco shared with the two of them. Snape was a little late, and everyone was impatiently waiting outside the classroom, chatting with his or her friends. Before he could elude her, Pansy had caught up to him. He risked a glance toward Hermione, and saw that she was watching intently. _Don't watch this please_, he thought desperately.

"Hello Draco," Pansy said loudly, catching everyone's attention. _Great_, he thought. _Just what I needed. Not only do I have to humiliate myself in front of Hermione, I also have to do it in front of the whole class_.

He remained quiet, not wanting to say anything to her. A warning glare from her loosened his tongue.

"Hello Pansy," he said dully.

She smirked and held him in a tight embrace. He could smell her too-strong, stinging perfume. "Kiss me," she whispered in his ear. "Like I showed you."

Draco did not move.

"…Has been infatuating with a Mudblood by the name of…" Pansy said, pretending to continue with the letter.

He had no choice. _Forgive me Hermione_, he thought as he kissed Pansy.

Hermione watched the display quietly, anger and hurt mixing inside her heart. She was about to explode. What was wrong with him? She marched up toward him and Pansy; their lips were still glued together. She shoved them apart from each other, glaring at them.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"_My boyfriend_ is kissing _me_," Pansy answered. "Isn't that right, Draco?"

She kicked him subtly in the leg.

"Yes," he said uninterestingly.

"Why are you doing this Draco?" Hermione asked, feeling her eyes stinging, threatening tears.

"Because he loves me," Pansy said. "Don't you, Draco?"

"Yes," he answered again, his tone never changing.

Moisture welled up in great amounts in Hermione's eyes.

"I thought—I thought," Hermione stuttered.

He couldn't bear to see her cry. There would be too much guilt for him. No… he had to get rid of her, no matter what.

"What did you think, Mudblood?" he spat. "You thought that I actually _liked_ you in whatsoever way?" he chuckled mockingly. "Go away you filthy Mudblood or you'll further stain my air. Go away and leave me alone," he finished.

Hermione was now sobbing openly as she pushed past him, heading out of the dungeons. How could he do that to her? It hurt so much! At the same time, she took off the necklace Draco gave her and stuffed it unceremoniously in her pocket. Draco watched her run away, feeling the agony of stabbing daggers in his heart. How could he be so cruel to her? Someone who he actually might… love?

"Um… Hermione?" Harry said as he entered the common room of Gryffindor Tower, followed by Ron. Hermione was trying to get away from Draco, so she must be in Gryffindor Tower, somewhere Draco didn't have access to.

She didn't respond, but was still burying her face in her arms. She sat on an armchair, and was crying softly, leaning on the table by the fire. Harry took a seat next to Hermione and Ron went to prepare some tea. The common room was quiet, except for the clinking of china and silverware. Harry absentmindedly stroked Hermione's wild hair. Gradually, Hermione's crying ceased. She looked up at Harry.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Hermione," Harry said, "I—we—want to apologize for the hard time we gave you."

"No," Hermione said. "_I'm_ sorry for being so stubborn."

Ron had returned with tea for everyone.

"Especially to you Ron," Hermione said. "I am _so_ sorry. You were so right."

Ron's ears turned red. "Don't worry about it Hermione," he said.

"How come you guys aren't saying 'I told you so'?" Hermione asked. "You were both so right, but I refused to listen to you."

"We think that you don't need it," Harry answered. "You don't, do you?"

"Of course not!" Hermione said. "Thank you for being here. Thank you for telling me the truth, even if I really didn't want to hear it."

"Just remember that we're your friends, and we want what's best for you," Ron said.

"Thank you," she murmured again. "I will _never_ trust that bastard again."

She brought the steaming teacup to her lips and sipped. It felt wonderful. Warmth spread throughout her body. She felt so much better already.

"This tea is marvelous," she said to Ron, who flushed, muttering a thank you.

Suddenly, she realized the time. They were supposed to be in Potions class! How could she have forgotten? She couldn't miss another class like she did in third year! How come the only person who could make her forget all the important things were that bastard of a Draco Malfoy?

"We have to go to class!" Hermione exclaimed.

"It's just Potions," Ron said.

"Snape won't miss us," Harry added.

"But we can't miss a class!" Hermione said worriedly and jumped up. "I can't believe I'm being so foolish. We can't miss a class!" What she really meant was "_I_ can't miss a class", although she didn't realize it.

Eventually, she made Harry and Ron accompany her to class. Gryffindor lost fifty points, but the important thing was that Hermione was back in class, ready to take notes. Draco kept trying to get Hermione's attention, but she firmly ignored him. Ignoring him was a good strategy, and it would work. For a while, that is.

It was Initiation Ceremony Day, and Draco did not want to wake up. His life had taken such a turn that he wondered if he could ever get back on track. First of all, he was forced to do whatever Pansy told him to do. Second, Hermione was ignoring him. Third, he was about to get the Dark Mark on his arm, something that he started to despise. And finally, he had no choice but to bear all that. How come his life became so much more miserable than before? Pansy was the answer. And if he weren't with Hermione, none of this would happen. _No_, he told himself firmly, _Hermione did a good thing for me, and I can't blame everything on her_. So he settled with blaming everything on Pansy.

However, blaming things on others wasn't going to help him survive the Initiation Ceremony. He propped himself up on the bed and washed up. He head down to the Great Hall for some breakfast, although the thought of food made him feel nauseated. He looked at his left forearm. His pale skin was the same as ever, but after today, it was going to bear that disgusting mark. He wanted to back down from it so much, but he knew he couldn't. Nothing in his life was in his control, and he hated that. He liked being in control, but that was apparently not going to happen.

It was a wonder that he got through with all of his classes. In the middle of Charms, a fifth year prefect brought a pass for him to leave the grounds. When he left Flitwick's class, the only thing that was on his mind was the dreaded ceremony. This turned out to be a mistake, since he felt his stomach turn over. He did _not_ want this. As he walked on the streets of Hogsmeade, even more dread filled him. He could hardly breathe.

"Draco Malfoy, I presume?" a young man in a black cloak said to him.

He nodded.

"I will lead you to the master," the man said. He looked like he was newly initiated.

They made their journey using a portkey. Draco found himself inside a dungeon-like chamber without any light. When his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he could make out a circle of Death Eaters. He knew that only the highest ranking were present in his initiation. His father had to be there. Then he saw a thin figure walk out from one of the archways and he could feel a shudder run down his spine.

It was none other than Voldemort.

He immediately went to his knees, learning this from his father. If he was going to fake this, he might as well fake it right. When the Dark Lord approached him, Draco kissed the hem of his robes, feeling disgusted that he had to do that as a proper display of respect.

"Welcome young Draco," Voldemort said, his voice sounding uncannily like a snake's. This sent another shiver down Draco's spine.

"I am honored that you find me worthy enough, my Lord," Draco said, sarcastic thoughts running through his mind. He had rehearsed everything with his father previously. He was glad that it actually came in useful.

"You are very courteous," Voldemort remarked.

"Thank you, my Lord," Draco said, faking gratitude, but faking it well.

"Stand up," he said. "And look at me in the eyes."

Draco stood up. This was a good time to use his skills to hide some thoughts that he did not want Voldemort to see. He camouflaged everything that had to do with Hermione and the Order into the background of his mind. One slip could cost his life, those of the Order's, as well as Hermione's. When he was ready, he looked at Voldemort dead in the eyes, almost saying, "Try me". The Dark Lord was a powerful Legilimens, but his mind had to be stronger to keep everything camouflaged. He could feel Voldemort's mind rummaging through his and he felt strangely naked, but he held strong. Fortunately, Voldemort did not find anything, so he asked a question, "What do you think of Muggles and Mudbloods?"

Draco could feel that Voldemort was about to enter his mind again, so he kept the camouflage and forced himself not to think about anything _good_ about them, especially not think about Hermione.

"Mudbloods and Muggles are the disgusting scum of our great Wizarding community, my Lord," he said, faking repulsion. "They are ugly, stupid, and filthy. They stain our world. They should all be tortured and killed. They don't even deserve a look from us!" he finished spectacularly. Maybe he ought have been an actor or something.

Voldemort was once again looking inside his mind, but Draco was ready. He seemed satisfied and gave Draco a place in the circle. He had passed the first level of his initiation ceremony. He wondered what Voldemort was going to make him do now.

"Let's see if you stand by everything you've said," Voldemort said. "Bring out the Muggle!" he shouted to his Death Eaters.

They scurried frantically to open the door for the Muggle, whoever he or she was. The large, heavy, wooden doors creaked open. Draco kept his head lowered but he risked a peek at the person. He gasped. It was a little girl no more than five years old! What was Voldemort going to make him do?

"Kill her," the Dark Lord said simply to Draco.

As Draco reached for his wand, he could see his hand was shaking uncontrollably. How could Voldemort want him to kill a child? The little girl was whimpering in fright, and the Death Eaters were laughing at her. _Shut up_, he thought furiously. _Shut up you heartless bastards_. He had no choice. He'll just use the _Avada Kedavra_. It was virtually painless. It'll be terrible if he used a Darker spell on the little girl. The weight on his conscience would be unbearable. What would Hermione think when he kills that little girl?

He pointed his wand at the girl, steadying his hand and aiming. He closed his eyes as he shouted, "_Avada Kedavra!"_

He could hear the girl's body crumple unto the floor. It took all of his self-control not to let tears escape from his eyes. He can't believe it. He killed an innocent child. This can't be happening… He _killed_ a _child_. Hermione would never forgive him now… The guilt was horrendous. No, no, no…

"How do you feel?" Voldemort asked.

"Great," he said, steadying his voice. "I feel no remorse. She deserved it."

How he hated Voldemort. How he wished that he could get his hands on him and tear him piece by piece. How Draco wished that he could poke Voldemort's red eyeballs out and feed it to the roaches. How he wished that he could rip his throat out. How Draco wished that he could feed his brain to himself. That heartless, cruel, evil…

"Stand up," Voldemort ordered.

Draco complied.

"Hold out your left arm," he commanded.

Draco did as he was told, knowing that he wouldn't and couldn't escape this.

"Repeat the vow after me," he said. "_I, Draco Malfoy, vow to serve the Dark Lord…_"

"I, Draco Malfoy, vow to serve the Dark Lord…"

"_And only the Dark Lord_…"

"And only the Dark Lord…"

"_I will obey his every command_…"

"I will obey his every command…"

"_Or I will surrender myself without complaint to my punishment._"

"Or I will surrender myself without complaint to my punishment."

"_I will always remain loyal to the Dark Lord_…"

"I will always remain loyal to the Dark Lord…"

"_No matter what happens_."

"No matter what happens."

Voldemort grabbed Draco's wrist and pulled back his sleeve, inspecting his flesh by running a finger down Draco's forearm. Draco shivered slightly.

"You have very good skin," Voldemort remarked. "The Dark Mark will imprint itself well. _Morsmordre_."

Draco felt a scorching burn on his arm. The agony was terrible, but he refused to utter a sound. He will not give Voldemort the satisfaction. And the Dark Lord was impressed by his ability to bear pain. Slowly, the burn faded away and Draco chanced a look at his forearm. It was there. The Dark Mark seemed to be mocking him. Its edges were black from his burnt skin. That was it. He was officially a Death Eater. Even the comfort of knowing that he was a spy wasn't enough to calm his nerves. It was a good thing that Voldemort dismissed everyone. He was not much of a party person. If Draco had been kept there for a minute longer, he would explode, and ruin the Order's chances of ever winning the Great War.

Draco was given a portkey, which took him back to his dormitory. He rolled down the sleeve of his Hogwarts uniform, refusing to look at mark on his arm. He sat on his bed, and buried his face in his hands. And for the first time since his infanthood, Draco Malfoy let his tears fall.

15


	10. The Dawn of War

_**Chapter 10**_

**The Dawn of War**

The headlines on the _Daily Prophet _the next morning were horrifying:

_FIVE MUGGLE FAMILIES MURDERED; DARK MARK ABOVE THEIR HOUSES_

There was also:

_MORE HIGH-SECURITY PRISONERS ESCAPE! DEMENTORS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND! DEATH EATERS RUN RAMPANT IN THE WIZARDING COMMUNITY! AURORS EXTREMELY BUSY_

Or:

_MINISTER OF MAGIC, CORNELIUS FUDGE, DEMANDS THAT EVERYONE BE EXTREMELY VIGILANT DURING THESE DANGEROUS TIMES_

And the worst:

_THE GREAT WAR STARTS. LEARN HOW TO PROTECT YOURSELF AND YOUR LOVED ONES._

"I can't believe the Great War's already starting!" Ron said incredulously from over Hermione's shoulder. "Are we even ready?"

"I hope so," Hermione said darkly. "If not, we're going to be crushed into smithereens. Voldemort"—she ignored Ron's flinch—"is getting more and more powerful. I think he's even more powerful than last time, sixteen years ago."

"Dumbledore had better have everything planned," he remarked, "or we're doomed."

"Dumbledore can't do everything by himself," she said. "He's going to need all the help he can get."

"But he's the most powerful wizard in the world," he protested.

Hermione shot a look at the Headmaster at the High Table. His eyebrows were knit together, and there was no more twinkle in his eyes. The bags under his eyes sagged heavily. Suddenly, he seemed so old and weary to Hermione.

"I don't know," Hermione muttered. "We are taking necessary precautions and contributing to the cause as much as we can, but I still don't know if it's enough. The Dark Side has all these creatures fighting for them too, in addition to Death Eaters. Did you know that Voldemort recruited hundreds upon thousands of new Death Eaters? If we're not careful, their odds of winning the war would be overwhelming." Her mind wondered on Draco, but she pushed the thought away.

"But what can we do?" Ron asked.

"Try to find more support, recruit more Aurors…" Hermione sighed. "I don't know. I guess our fate really is in Dumbledore's hands."

"And Harry's," he whispered to Hermione.

She nods in agreement. They simultaneously glanced over at Harry. He was oddly quiet, and his eyes were set on his golden plate of food. He absentmindedly grabbed his pumpkin juice goblet and took a sip. Then, to Hermione and Ron's amazement, he started _chewing the pumpkin juice_ distractedly.

"Harry?" Ron said worriedly.

There was no response.

"Harry!" Hermione called.

Harry's head jerked up and looked at them both, swallowing the juice.

"Are you all right, mate?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," he said, poking his scrambled eggs with his fork uninterestingly.

"Don't worry about it too much," Hermione said. "You'll be fine."

"Of course I will be fine," Harry said sarcastically. "I will be terrific, especially since Voldemort is stronger than ever. Why should I worry?"

"I'm sure you can beat him," Hermione said confidently, with Ron nodding in agreement.

"Gee, I wonder who's going to win," Harry said in mock-contemplation. "Me, a mere seventeen-year-old boy, against the most powerful Dark wizard in the world… I think I might actually beat him!"

"That's the spirit!" Ron said half-jokingly.

Hermione smiled, but Harry completely ignored his remark.

"Look," Hermione said, her air becoming serious again, "worrying isn't going to get you anywhere. And if you can't stop worrying, then I suggest that you do something about it so that you can release some of the stress. All right?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly.

"Do you remember that project we did for Binns?" Hermione asked. "Remember there was this prophecy that helps destroy Voldemort?"

He looked up, curious. "Yeah I remember that," he said, thinking. "I think that prophecy might actually be linked to mine… somehow…"

"It might!" she exclaimed. Of course, this _had_ to make sense. Two prophecies that are linked together to form one big prophecy that is the key to Voldemort's demise! "I found out that it involves two enemies falling in love or something. This will lift an ancient curse as well as make both prophecies come true! But the question is who?"

All three members of the golden trio pondered this, but arriving to no solution.

After that fateful day that made its mark in history, everyone at Hogwarts and the rest of the Wizarding community were uptight, not knowing what to expect. The teachers, including Snape, all conducted their lessons stiffly. The tension was high and thick in the air, and it was almost choking. It was as if everyone was waiting for Voldemort to suddenly burst in his or her classroom. Hermione even found it was hard to concentrate when so many things were going on. It was also very painful for her to keep ignoring Draco, especially when he was always trying to get her attention so that he could talk to her about something, but she had refused to listen. What could be so important anyway? Why doesn't he tell that whore of a Pansy Parkinson? _They seem to be getting along quite well_, she thought bitterly.

Things did not turn any better even as days passed. Hermione firmly ignored Draco, who seemed to be using the direct approach to solve the problem. Amazingly, he never gave up on her. This became like a battle of will that Hermione was determined to win. Valentine's Day came, and Hermione was still as stubborn as ever. Nothing was going to make her trust that bastard again, she vowed to herself. So during the morning, she held her head high as she entered the pink and red Great Hall, accompanied by Harry and Ron. Her compulsive curiosity made her glance at Draco stealthily. Satisfaction of revenge swelled in her heart as she saw Draco watching at the trio with certain sadness in his eyes that he had no bothered to mask. However, at the same time, Hermione felt a dab of pain in her heart to be separated from him. She couldn't deny her feelings. She couldn't run away forever from the person who was causing all these feelings. It was so frustrating.

As they sat down at the Gryffindor Table, and started eating breakfast, owls flew in from the windows. There were so many, each of them carrying valentines. Hermione ignored the entire proceedings, and especially ignored the squeals some girls made when an owl deposited a valentine in front of them. She did notice that Harry, Ron, and Draco each received several. As far as she knew, she did not receive anything yet. All her friends knew that she considered Valentine's Day a stupid, pointless holiday, so she did not even receive friendly valentines.

She kept her head lowered as she continued with her breakfast. The house-elves have outdone themselves making the food with Valentine's Day colors and shapes. Suddenly, a number of people gasped, pointing upwards. Hermione rolled her eyes. _Freaks_, she thought, not even bothering to look at what caused the commotion.

"Hermione!" Harry called.

"What?" she snapped, not exactly knowing why.

"I think you'd better look up," Ron said.

She looked up. About a half dozen doves flew carrying a valentine, flowers, and a box. She was not impressed, and continued eating her breakfast. What astonished her most was that the doves landed all around her, putting down all the gifts. She frowned, wondering what it could be. Who would actually go to such lengths? She picked up her card, well aware that most students' gazes were upon her.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I am very sorry about everything that has happened these past days, but please let me explain the situation to you. It is vital that you know that this is beyond my control. Forgive me and please give me a chance to explain. Happy Valentine's Day!_

_Always yours,_

_Draco Malfoy_

Hermione looked over at Draco. He was looking very anxious to see her reaction. She felt her eyes stinging again. What was she supposed to do now? Could she really forgive him for his betrayal? Simultaneously, she wanted to know what his explanation could be. It was downright betrayal. How can he come up with a plausible reason for _that_? How could it have been beyond his control?

She picked up the dozen of blood-red roses. There was a tiny card attached to it, which contained more apologies, with even a poetic air to them. She brought it to her nose, and sniffed. They smelled fresh and sweet. She picked up the box on the table, and realized that it was an imported assortment of fine chocolates. She allowed herself a small smile, glancing at Draco. She saw his shoulders relax slightly. In fact, it was so slight that it was barely noticeable. She even wondered if she was actually imagining it.

Draco felt slightly relieved, seeing her accept all of his gifts. He couldn't stand having to listen to everything Pansy tells him to do. He was so sick of it, especially since Pansy was not making his life any easier. He decided to throw caution to the wind and explain everything to Hermione. He could not take this blackmail deal any longer, with Pansy taking full advantage of him. He was a Malfoy, and no one should dare take advantage of him.

Hermione left the Great Hall alone, carrying all of his gifts with her. Draco pulled away from Pansy's grasp and followed her out. She was undoubtedly going to the Head quarters. Arrived in her room, Hermione emptied the dried flowers from her vase by the window in the trash, and filled the vase with water. With painstaking care, she set each rose neatly in the vase, ignoring the thorns that were scratching her skin. Every rose was the epitome of perfection. It must have taken Draco an extremely long time to find twelve roses that were perfect.

She heard knocking on her open door and her head whipped around to see Draco casually leaning against the doorframe. They were silent for a quite a while.

"Hey," Draco said softly.

"Hey," Hermione replied, just as softly.

There was another pause.

"Thank you for the gifts," she said politely. "I particularly like the roses."

"Great," he said expressionless, although his eyes sparkled a little when she said that. "If they weren't perfect, I would have that gardener suffer very badly."

She shot him a disapproving look, but nevertheless said, "I think that the current circumstances would make that quite unnecessary."

He merely nodded.

"So…" she said hesitantly, "what's your explanation?"

He was quite taken aback. He never expected her to be so straightforward about it. He took a deep breath and told her all about Pansy and her blackmailing scheme.

"Is it true?" Hermione asked.

"I wouldn't lie to you about this Hermione," he answered.

Could she really trust him? Was this one of his lame excuses? He seemed so sincere and the story seemed to hold and it was rather believable…

"I hope I'm not making a mistake by believing you," she finally said.

"I know that I made you seriously doubt my honesty," he said, "but I want you to know that I would never _ever_ hurt you willingly."

Hermione smiled and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. It felt so good to finally be back in his arms after all these weeks. She felt that she was where she belonged again, pressed against him, with his hands resting on her lower back. She couldn't deny the fact that she really did miss him, and she wondered if he felt the same way. As she suddenly realized something, she pushed away alarmingly, startling him.

"I bet Pansy told you not to tell me about this," she said.

"Screw her," he said indifferently, taking her back in his arms. "I'm tired of having to listen to everything she says. Malfoys should not be ordered around."

Things were finally arranged between them. When Draco left, Hermione pulled back the drawer from her dresser, and withdrew the gold necklace that he gave her, and she hooked it back around her neck.

Hermione had told Draco about the linked prophecies and he seemed to be quite interested in what she had to say.

"It makes sense," Draco said thoughtfully. "But there's a huge loophole: who are these two people who are supposed to fall in love?"

"That's the problem," Hermione said. "I don't know. I thought you would be able to figure it out."

"Hmmm." He was pensive. Suddenly, his eyes lighted up. "Remember that cabin in the woods? The one we visited four months ago?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "But what has that gotten anything to do with the prophecy?"

"The thing is," he said, "I'm not sure that it does. I'm not entirely sure that it would help, since I have no idea what it contains. But I think it might be worth a try. Who knows?"

"Get to the point Draco," she said impatiently.

"There was a chest in the bedroom that we couldn't open," he said. "What if it contained information about the prophecy?"

Hermione beamed. "You are _brilliant_, Draco! _Brilliant_!" she said, pulling him into a bone-breaking hug.

"You just figured that out?" he said, smirking at her.

"Well, you _were_ quite submissive to Parkinson's whines," she said.

Any trace of a smile disappeared from Draco's face.

"Hermione," he said. "I already told you. I'm sorry. I had no choice. I will regret that very decision until the day I die. I know that it was stupid of me, but—"

He was silenced by a kiss.

"As long as you admit that you were stupid," Hermione said. "Now, back to business. How are we going to get to the cabin? Because there is no way I'm walking there again. Who knows what's guarding it besides the panther?"

"How should I know?" Draco asked, although he looked like he really did know. "I'm the stupid one."

Hermione shot a glare in his direction.

"Fine," he said, raising his hands as if in surrender. "Let's fly."

_Payback_, he thought as Hermione paled.

"I don't like this, I really don't like this," Hermione muttered to herself, her eyes firmly shut.

"Relax Hermione." Draco chuckled. "I'm not going to drop you…maybe."

Before he knew it, a fist collided with his cheekbone. It didn't hurt that much, but it was still somewhat painful as he massaged it.

"If you _dare_ try to drop me…" Hermione left her threat open-ended.

Draco smirked and swerved sharply to the right and descended into a dive. All the while Hermione screamed. The thick canopy of the trees was rushing to meet their faces. It was getting closer and closer. Hermione grabbed Draco in a death grip and screamed. Draco was smirking, but it was obvious that he was concentrating. Just before the crash, he pulled out of the dive and resumed their previous, lethargic course.

Hermione turned around. Her face was contorted in fury.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she screamed. "Are you trying to kill me? Is this a kind of romantic ride that you provide for all of your girlfriends?"

"No just you," he said, smirking. "Because you're special."

"Thank you for the honor!" she yelled, hysterically sarcastic.

"You're welcome," he said, his smirk becoming wider.

She screamed in frustration. "You—you absolute asshole!"

"Language, love," he drawled amusedly, never once raising his voice during the entire conversation.

Hermione gritted her teeth, determined not to give Draco any more entertainment. But she didn't have to say anything anymore.

"There!" Draco pointed at the clearing in the midst of the great green sea of tree leaves. A tiny speck was visible at the very edge of the clearing.

_Finally_, Hermione thought, relieved to be able to set foot on solid ground again. When they landed, she was so eager to get off the broomstick as quickly as possible that she stumbled and almost fell flat on her face. This had given Draco quite a good laugh, even when he tried to hold her up.

"Bastard," Hermione said, as they walked toward the entrance of the cabin for the second time.

As she looked around, memories came rushing through her, of the last time she was here with Draco. It was on that day that marked the turning point of their relationship. If they hadn't come here in the first place, they'd still be throwing insults at each other like the old times. She was glad that the phase was a thing of the past. She also remembered the important discoveries that they've made here. Her hand reached inside her pocket, and her fingers enclosed around the small pendant. It was her lucky charm, ever since the Winter Dance when Draco had first kissed her. She wouldn't go anywhere without it, especially after the day he "broke up" with her. It was the only time that she didn't have the pendant with her.

She rubbed the pendant with her thumb at the thought. Suddenly, a gust of warm wind blew and her hair flew behind her. What was happening? She was _inside_ the cabin! Where did the wind come from? She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth and ignoring Draco's frantic cries. The breeze spiraled around her, sending her robes and hair whipping madly around her. It also carried a faint scent that she couldn't quite place, although it smelled refreshing.

In the meanwhile, Draco tried to get to her, but the wind was preventing him from getting anywhere near her. What was going on? He could do nothing but watch hopelessly as the gentle wind encircled his Hermione.

Hermione opened her eyes, but the cabin seemed blurry and distorted, like she was looking through a barrier of water. Then, whatever remained of the cabin disappeared at once. Flashes of images rushed before her eyes, making it impossible for her to grasp the images. It was like a train crossing her path at full speed, and she was trying to look into the windows. Obviously, it wasn't going to work. However, she could make out faint outlines of the people in the pictures. Because they all contained the same two people: a girl with long, wavy brown hair, and a boy with white-blond hair. The last figures slowed, and Hermione was finally able to catch more than mere glimpses at these flashes of colors and movement.

The two people were wearing very old-fashioned clothes and they were kissing. In another image, the girl was kneeling, and crying over something that was imperceptible. Then, the blond boy was shown, looking deathly pale, and his chest was not rising and falling in rhythm. It was clear that he was dead. Next, it showed the image of both people crumpled on the floor, completely lifeless. A chilling laugh sent a shiver down Hermione's spine. And finally, an image of the couple laughing lingered for a few more seconds, and then faded like the others.

Along with the pictures, Hermione had felt despair, and the hurt of heartbreak so acutely that she thought that they really were her _own_ emotions. But it was impossible. She had no reason to feel those right now. Also, she had felt fear and terror unlike what she had ever felt before. It was so strange. Before the breeze left altogether, she saw two last images. One was of the couple, and the other was of _her and Draco_. What did it mean?

Before she could contemplate it any longer, the wind disappeared and she staggered backwards, right into Draco's open arms. Her vision was blurry and her cheeks were flushed. She felt dizzy and nauseous. She could barely hear Draco's panicked voice. Then, she slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

"Hermione!" Draco called, almost desperately.

Hermione slightly opened her eyes and she saw two blurred Dracos bending over her. It took her some more time for her eyes to focus and adjust.

"Are you all right?" Draco asked, his relief apparent.

"What happened?" Hermione mumbled weakly.

"Well," he began, "it was very creepy. There was a breeze that came out of nowhere and it somehow wrapped itself around you. You stood unnaturally still. You looked like you were frozen. You weren't even blinking. It was like you were petrified or something. Then, the breeze left as quickly as it had come and you would have fallen if I hadn't caught you. You were really limp and weak. Then, you just passed out."

The memories and the images came flooding back to her. She pulled herself up rapidly, clinging on Draco for support.

"I saw all these pictures…" she began, and proceeded with telling him all about them.

"How?" he asked. "How could this be possible?"

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe it's because of the memory vibrations in this cabin. And I had an object of the past, the pendant, with me so I was receptive of these vibrations."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Right," he said sarcastically. "Where did you get this preposterous idea from?"

"I read about this in a book at my local library—" She was interrupted.

"A _Muggle_ book?" he asked incredulously. "You think you can get magical theories from _Muggle _books?"

She shot him a glare. "They are not completely stupid you know," she said, but seeing that he was about to make another snide remark, she quickly added, "Then what do _you_ suggest?"

"I don't know," he answered, "but you can't possibly make me believe that Muggle rubbish."

"Why can't you stop letting your prejudices get in your way of understanding for once?"

"Because the idea is just plain ludicrous! Do you believe it yourself?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then you are gullible!"

"_Gullible_? You're calling me _gullible_?"

"Well, you're a bit slow if you keep asking that."

"Slow? You—you…" She let her insult hang, then forced out a laugh. "Look at us. We're bickering like an old married couple when we have something important to do."

"You're only saying that because you know that I will get the last word this time."

"You arrogant bastard—"

Draco got up and lifted her off the couch. Putting her down on the floor, he dragged her toward the stairs to the second floor, where they knew the chest was waiting to be opened.

There was thick layer of dust on the chest. When it was wiped off, the dust particles flew in the air, making them both sneeze. They looked at the chest closely, inspecting every inch of the wooden container. It looked quite ordinary, but they knew that it was protected by powerful spells.

"The lock is strange…" Draco remarked, brushing his finger over the golden plaque where the key is supposed to be inserted in. Instead of being a narrow hole, it almost looked like two tiny, oval plates placed next to each other. Who had ever heard of such a key?

"This thing looks like it's the only way to open the chest," Hermione said.

"But apparently," he said bitterly, "it's not going to happen, because we don't have the stupid key."

"Let's take this thing with us," she said. "Maybe we will find the key somehow."

"Fat chance," he said.

"Stop being so pessimistic," she said.

She held out her wand and muttered a spell. The chest shrunk to a size that could easily fit in her pocket. She grabbed it and stood up.

"There," she said, tapping the chest in her robes pocket. "We can go now, and hopefully, we will be able to open this thing."

"That was a good idea," Draco said, approving the charm.

"Thank you," she said and smiled.

When they flew back, Hermione was uncannily silent. She kept remembering the last two images that she saw when wrapped up by the wind. Why was the couple compared to Draco and her? Was it only her imagination that they were being compared, or was it really its purpose? That had to be linked with the prophecy, because this whole ordeal, including the cabin and the pendant dealt with the prophecy. She was convinced that the couple it showed was Katherine and Jean-François. But what about the picture of Draco and her? Could they be…? No… they couldn't be. It… No…

Hermione had the strangest dream that night. It was a very short dream, but its meaning couldn't have been clearer. She dreamed that the pendant fell to the hard stone floor and as it clinked, the locket opened, and fell flat on the ground. Then, she saw the key "hole" of the chest. Perfect match! It hit her. Of course! The _pendant_ was the _key_!

13


	11. Murder Attempt

_**Chapter 11**_

**Murder Attempt**

Despite the fact that she already solved the mystery of the chest, it was no use. Hermione was kept very busy, so she had no time to open the chest. The N.E.W.T.s were drawing closer, and she couldn't believe that she hadn't started revising right after the Christmas holidays. Having so many things on her mind, only when Professor McGonagall mentioned something about the N.E.W.T.s did she remember that she still had exams to study for. This was so unlike her, not having her priorities set already. The chest could wait, although her curiosity was intense. She made color-coded study schedules for herself, Harry, Ron, and even Draco. Harry and Ron just rolled their eyes and stuffed the schedules into their pockets carelessly. Draco looked at her like she had just grown an extra head. Like any other studying session, Hermione was very on edge, and snapped at anyone who dared to disturb her, especially since she started so late. She was so immersed in her studies, that the chest was almost completely driven out of her mind.

In addition to her obsessive study sessions, she also had piles upon piles of Head duties that she had to perform, or renounce her position. It was a wonder how she managed. Soon though, the mystery was solved. She had massive, purple bags under her eyes. She had trouble staying awake and taking notes at the same time in her classes. The professors, excluding Snape, took pity in her and slightly lessened her workload. It helped at little. She could even spare a bit of time for Draco.

It was night, and Hermione was patrolling the hallways with Draco. She was struggling from the effort of suppressing constant yawns. The two made small talk. An intelligent debate would wear her out, she knew. She hadn't slept much the previous night: only about four hours. She felt like she could fall asleep right on her feet.

"Look Hermione," Draco said, his lighthearted tone changing to serious. He was trying to keep Hermione entertained as much as he could so that she wouldn't fall asleep on her feet, but it proved to be a great challenge. She was too irresponsive. "You really need to give yourself a break and get more sleep."

"I can't!" she protested. "The N.E.W.T.s are coming up and you know how important they are! They determine the kind of jobs you would be able to have after graduation! It determines the life you will lead! It determines your _future_!"

"But you don't have to study like a maniac!" he said. "Everyone knows that you will get all O's anyway."

"They also all know that O's aren't handed to you on a silver platter!" she said. "I have to work for it, just like everyone else!"

"That gives you no reason to study like your life depends on it!" he said.

"But my life _does_ depend on it! What part of 'it determines your future' don't you understand?" she snapped.

"You're taking this out of proportion."

"No I'm not. I just have my priorities straight. I want to do well."

"And we all don't?"

"If you do, you sure aren't acting like it."

Draco stopped in the middle of the corridor and grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. "You're apparently not being yourself," he said. "I need to help you relieve some of this stress."

"I don't need—" She never got to end her protest.

He walked behind her, and massaged the tense muscles of her shoulders, neck, and back. She soon found herself enjoying his touches. She felt her muscles relax considerably. When Draco was done, she shrugged her shoulders experimentally. The pain she had felt earlier was now nonexistent, or at least temporarily dulled.

She turned around to face Draco, and smiled. "This feel so much better," she said. "Thanks a lot."

Before he could reply, she leaned in and their lips met in a sweet kiss.

"Wow," he said softly, "I hadn't had one of those from you in a long while."

"A few days shouldn't be considered long," she replied.

"It is to my standards," he said, smirking. A few months ago, she would have thought the smirk was repulsive, but now, she found it adorable.

She smiled innocently. "So do you want more?" she asked.

He nodded vigorously, like a five-year-old being asked if he would like a year's supply of candy. She was more than happy to comply.

All the while, a horrified blonde watched them from the end of the hallway, anger burning like fire inside of her. _Oh sweet revenge_, she thought nastily.

It was Potions again, the most hated class of the Gryffindors. Draco had always liked the class, but now, he had a reason to hate it too. He hated _someone_ in that class, and surprisingly, it wasn't Snape.

He was minding his own business, brewing his own potion. As he reached for his last, and most important ingredient, someone elbowed past him, making him drop the beaker. The beaker shattered into a million crystal pieces, and the thick liquid that used to be within spread on the dungeon floor, burning holes right through the stones.

"Help him clean up Parkinson," Snape said to Pansy, who was nearest. It hit him that the "_someone_" who elbowed him was Pansy herself.

"I know you were the one who made me drop this," he sneered.

As they bent down, Pansy took full advantage of their situation, which was their distance from the other students.

"I had a reason, and I want you to listen to me well. _Stay away from the Mudblood_," she hissed.

"You have no right to order me around," he spat.

"But I have pictures of you and your stinking little _girlfriend_," she said.

"I don't give a damn," he said.

"They're going to end up in your daddy's hands," she said, quickly covering up her disappointment.

"So?" he replied nonchalantly. "Screw it."

Pansy glared, gritting her teeth. "You're going to regret it," she said. "I will make sure of it."

"Good luck and have fun," he said in a bored tone.

Her eyes flashed dangerously, but she forced a smile, and said, "Oh I will. Trust me."

The smile she showed was full of malice, but he paid to heed to it. However, at the bottom of his heart, he felt an uncomfortable twinge of worry. What was he going to tell his father? Pansy would never let an opportunity for her to get revenge pass her by.

A couple of days passed by, and Draco received written proof that Pansy did get her revenge. It was during breakfast in the Great Hall, at its usual owl post time, that he obtained his confirmation. He knew exactly what the letter on his eagle owl's ankle contained, and he knew exactly whom it was from. With dread, worry, and apprehension permanently settling in his chest, he tore open the envelope and read the contents of his letter. _At least he didn't send me a Howler_, he thought. _The mortification would be worse, especially with Potty and the Weasel laughing at me_. The letter was short and… well, it was short.

_Draco,_

_Miss Parkinson has informed me of your relationship with the Mudblood girl. Meet me in the Hog's Head on your next Hogsmeade trip. We have much to discuss._

_Your father_

His gaze met Pansy's and he could see her smiling at him. He forced a smile, determined not to show that he acknowledged the fact that she won this battle. He angrily stuffed the letter in his pocket as he stood up, resolved to throw it in the fire at the first opportunity. Or at least he tried to. Because of his carelessness, the crumpled piece of parchment fell to the floor, to be picked up by none other than the "Mudblood girl". This led to a confrontation shortly afterwards in the privacy of their Head common room.

"Don't go," Hermione insisted.

"I can't," Draco replied. "He'd come after me and kill me on the spot. At least if I go, I might talk my way out of punishment… somehow."

"He can't harm you as long as Dumbledore's here!" she said.

"But he can trick Dumbledore away!" he argued.

Hermione remembered the incident in first year, when Dumbledore was tricked to a fake Ministry emergency. He wouldn't fall for that again! Dumbledore isn't stupid.

"He already has been tricked once," she said. "He's not going to be tricked again."

"That can't be guaranteed," he said.

_He does have a point_, she thought. _Dumbledore's not a Seer._

"But what if…? …What if…" she stammered. "What if… he does something to you?"

He shrugged. "I suppose there won't be much left for me to do," he said.

"You say you can talk your way out of it," she said. "What can you say?"

"I'll come up with an excuse and apply just the right facial expressions," he said. "He'll believe me. It's not like he's a Legilimens like the Dark Lord." Seeing her unconvinced face, he added, "Besides, we have a whole month until the next Hogsmeade trip. I'm a Slytherin. I can find a convincing enough story to tell way before then."

Hermione remained skeptical, but found no other argument to throw at him, except for the "what if"'s. It was rare for Draco to actually be optimistic about something, so she wasn't about to bring him down with her worst-case scenarios. And at the mention of the Dark Lord, she remembered that he had his initiation ceremony a while ago. But since she had been angry with him then, she had forgotten to ask him about it.

"So…" she said tentatively, "how did that initiation ceremony go?"

He considered telling her about all the pain that he had had to go through, but decided that he shouldn't worry Hermione even further. What's more, he still hated pity.

"It was not as bad as I thought," he replied. _It was much worse_, he thought to himself. At least he wasn't completely lying, leaving Hermione to interpret it how ever she wanted to.

She nodded and gently rolled back the sleeve covering his left arm. The Mark was there, vibrant on his pale skin. It was ugly and disgusting, scarring him for life, both physically and emotionally. He must be enduring so much at the moment, and it was out of her hands to make him feel better. She rolled down his sleeve and felt that the corners of her eyes stinging. She quickly turned around, and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Are you all right?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah," she answered, wiping her eyes, and managing a weak laugh. "I was just being ridiculous."

Sensing that this conversation would be awkward and the situation uncomfortable, he abruptly changed the subject. "Did you see Professor Vector's new husband? That man looks like Bludgers hit him too many times to count! Honestly!"

As the days drew him closer to his meeting with his father, Draco still hadn't come up with a good enough excuse, much to his frustration and concern. Maybe he should have made sure that he could do something _before_ he boasted about it. Well, it was only to quiet Hermione. For once in his life, he felt very doubtful of himself. Will he be able to come up with an excuse on time? As more days passed, he decided that he was desperate enough to resort to the last solution: asking for help. And Hermione seemed to be the best candidate. However, help was not immediately obtained, since she was still extremely busy. It was difficult to find a time at which she wasn't working or in a bad mood. But by a miracle, that time came and it took enormous effort from him to swallow his pride and tell her the truth.

"I've come up with a lot of great ideas, but I'm not sure which one I should choose. So I want to know if you have any suggestions so that I don't have to be forced to pick one," he said. Okay… maybe that _wasn't_ the entire truth. But making him swallow his pride was a big feat just by itself already; so what more from him do you want?

Hermione was obviously unconvinced by his pitiful speech. She raised an eyebrow and said, "What? Even with your Slytherin cunning, you still haven't found an excuse for your father?"

He opened his mouth as if indignant. "Do not make such assumptions of me!" he said. "I have millions of great ideas."

"Then just pick a random one," she said, opening her book. "You apparently don't need me then."

She smiled inwardly. What was he going to do now?

"If I hadn't needed you, I wouldn't have come to you," he said.

"But the way I see it," she said, "you don't need my help, since you've got '_millions of great ideas_'."

Draco sighed exasperatedly. "Fine," he said. "I haven't thought of a single great idea."

She smiled triumphantly. "Why didn't you just say so?" She put her book down on the couch next to her.

"Because it is below me."

"And you thought that I would be stupid enough to believe that rubbish."

"Well, it was worth a try."

"I'm not at the top of my classes for no reason."

"Someone's arrogant."

"Funny how you would know."

"Well, you're being hypocritical."

"No. You're just rubbing off on me."

"Then I must be."

"We're getting off-topic here."

"Look who's talking."

"I am. _Anyways_, you wanted help forming your excuse, I believe?"

"You don't have to rub it in even more."

"But it's so much fun."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is."

"No."

"Yes."

"Getting off-topic again, aren't we?"

"So _anyways_," Hermione repeated, glaring, "I think I have an idea."

"And it is…?"

"Pretend that you're only hanging around me because you want to get closer to Harry."

"So it's like I'm spying for both sides? That'll be the death of me."

"Well, unless you've got a better idea, I suggest you take my advice." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

"All right then." He stood up and turned to leave, then added, "Thanks."

"For once you're appreciating me!" she said.

"A 'you're welcome' would be great," he said dryly.

"Then where would the fun be?" she asked, smiling.

He rolled his eyes. "See you later," he said and left the room.

It was the day of the "discussion" at the Hog's Head, and Draco felt sick and numb. He rehearsed so many times at night, but he was still nervous beyond measure. Being somewhat of an insomniac, he used many of his nights to practice. He wondered if it was enough. If he ruins this, he knew Hermione would be the one paying the terrible price.

As he walked on the streets of Hogsmeade, he did not even feel the chilly wind blow. The snow was melting, but it didn't mean that the air was any warmer. The sign outside of the pub creaked as another breeze blew. When he pulled the door open and entered, he felt grateful for its rush of warmth. Only two other people—one heavily wrapped in scarves and the other wearing a hooded cloak—were in the pub, but Draco could immediately tell which one was his father. He could recognize his strong, spicy, and expensive cologne anywhere. And his cloak looked expensive and custom designed. When his father turned around, Draco could catch a glint in his gray eyes, despite the fact that his hood hid his face.

"Draco!" his father said warmly. They both knew that he was just pretending. "I've been waiting for you!"

He walked toward Draco. With a firm grip on his shoulder, Lucius led him to the second floor, where the private rooms were. The room was musty, and definitely wasn't as cozy as the Leaky Cauldron. It had a couch, an armchair, a little coffee table, and a fireplace. The fireplace looked too worn away to be lighted. Draco couldn't hide his look of disgust at such a place.

"Of course this isn't as comfortable as home," his father said, obviously noticing his discomfort, "but it will serve our purpose."

At these words, Draco's stomach churned, and his hands became clammy in spite of his desperate need for control. His heart thumped wildly inside his chest.

"Please, take a seat," Lucius Malfoy said, as he himself sat down on the armchair.

Draco obeyed, sitting down on the couch facing his father. _Look at him in the eyes_, he instructed himself, _or he'll have even more reasons to suspect you_.

"So how is school going?" Malfoy senior asked as he conjured a teapot and two cups out of thin air.

"Very well, thank you," he answered, apprehension setting heavily in his heart.

"Your teachers and your _friends_ are all right?" Mr. Malfoy continued asking. Draco couldn't help but notice the special emphasis his father put on the word "friends".

"They are fine," he said simply.

His father nodded curtly. "How about your personal life?" he asked, pouring the steaming hot tea in the two teacups. "Do you have your eye on any girl?"

Draco swallowed. What was he going to tell him? Should he lie? But it would be rather pointless to lie, since his father already knew about Hermione. Maybe he should just take Hermione's advice. The situation urgently called for it.

"There's a girl, Harry Potter's best friend, who thinks that I like her, but I really don't," he lied, keeping his face blank and staring right into his father's eyes. At last something his father had taught him became useful. "This is all part of my plan to get to Potter. She's the perfect 'bridge', as we might call it."

His father was quiet, searching for any signs on his face that he might have let slip. It was a difficult task to keep his face blank, while his heart was about to jump out of his chest in dread. It felt like an eternity when his father finally withdrew his gaze from his face.

"I do not think that you're lying," Mr. Malfoy said, and Draco sighed inaudibly. "But there's always doubt. However, it is of no matter now. Drink up." He pushed the teacup toward Draco.

Steadying his hand, he reached over and grabbed the cup. Slowly, he brought it to his lips, noticing a slight swirl in the tea. That definitely wasn't supposed to be there. He pretended to sip, perfectly aware of his father's careful gaze on him. Hopefully, it was convincing enough. He set the cup back down on the table and leaned back, his eyes never leaving his father's.

"You really do not feel any emotions toward the Mudblood girl?" his father asked. By the nature of this question, he could deduce that his father put Veritaserum in the tea.

"With the exception of hatred, I harbor no feelings for her whatsoever," he said firmly. "After all, she's just a filthy little Mudblood." The most surprising thing was that it took an effort to say "Mudblood", something he used to be able to say very easily. How strange… Nevertheless, his father seemed satisfied.

"I knew that my own son will never betray me," Mr. Malfoy said in a tone that was meant to make someone feel guilty. However, Draco was determined not to be the "someone".

"Of course not, Father," he lied deliberately. "I will always be on your side."

When his father stood up, he followed suit. Mr. Malfoy patted his son on the shoulder, and said, "I raised you well" in an overly paternal voice. Draco knew that it was only for show, although no one else was anywhere near enough to hear. His father adjusted his hood, and walked out without so much as a farewell, but a sense of relief flooded Draco's body. He lied, and succeeded in fooling Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione sat nervously in the library, biting her bottom lip. She didn't know how Draco was doing, and it unnerved her. What if he was getting tortured, and she couldn't do anything about it? Would he actually be able to fool his father? She found it to be extremely difficult to concentrate on her schoolwork. What if he needed her? She impatiently tapped her fingers on the yellowing pages of the thick volume before her. There was no use. She couldn't study effectively. She snapped the book shut. Dust flew in the air, causing Hermione to sneeze. She wondered how long this book hadn't been opened. She held it under her arm, and walked out of the library, hoping that Draco already returned from his trip.

Oddly, no one was in the hallways, not even the students below third year, who were not permitted to visit Hogsmeade. It was unusually quiet. Hermione could hear the faint echoes the soles of her shoes were making as they met the floor with each step. She could hear her own breathing, like the volume has just been tuned up. Something was wrong. It was too silent. She sharpened her senses and walked more slowly, determined to catch any sound that was out of rhythm with her breathing and walking.

As she passed a bathroom—the most frequently used for its convenience—not a sound was emitted. Not even giggles of gossiping girls. Strange… this corridor was usually full of life. What was wrong? Her breathing and heartbeat quickened. She could feel that something was going to go wrong. Any moment now…

Suddenly, a figure clad in all black appeared in front of her, and she stopped, almost stumbling over her own feet because of the abruptness of her stop. She could see that the person was wearing a black cloak covering his or her face. However, the person's build seemed to be close to hers. The figure raised his or her wand. Hermione could almost hear the person smirking.

"_Avada Kedavra_," the person whispered, but Hermione caught both words of the curse.

Panic struck her. How was she going to defend herself? Withdrawing her wand from her pocket at lightning speed, she screamed the first spell that came into her mind, "_Protego_!"

The shield wasn't strong enough. The green light seemed to waver for a fraction of a second before breaking through Hermione's protective barrier. The deadly curse hit her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. The last thing she saw before her vision faded to black was a lock of blond hair protruding from the hood.

Draco returned earlier than the rest of the students since he couldn't wait to tell Hermione of the recent developments. He had achieved the seemingly impossible, outwitting his father. He burst in the library, but Hermione was nowhere to be seen. So he decided to look for her in their common room. She was absent from there too. He even went to her bedroom, but she wasn't there. His happiness vanished, to be replaced by worry. Where was she? Maybe she was with her friends, Potter and Weasley, who didn't go to Hogsmeade.

He ran toward the stairs, to the seventh floor, where he knew it was where the Gryffindor common room was located. He never got to the portrait of the Fat Lady because he met the two boys in the middle of the corridor. All three boys stopped in their tracks, narrowing their eyes. As much as he hated it, he had to ask them where Hermione was. If they didn't know, who would?

"Potty, Weasel," he said in acknowledgement.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Potter asked, suspicion thick in his voice.

"I'm just here to pay you guys a visit because I love you so much," he replied sarcastically.

Potter and Weasley exchanged glances. _How thick could they be?_ He thought to himself. _I don't see why Hermione is always so intent on spending time with _them.

"I'm here to find Hermione, you halfwits," he said.

"Don't you dare call us halfwits, you slimy ferret!" Weasley said heatedly.

"And why should you care about Hermione?" Potter asked, still very suspicious.

Draco looked around, making sure that no one else was around. "Because she's my girlfriend!" he replied angrily. "How thick can you two get?"

Weasley's face visibly flushed. Before he could reply though, Potter cut him off. "I thought you two broke up."

"Apparently not," Draco replied impatiently. "News flash: We made up."

Ron looked confused. "Why?" he asked. "Why would she _ever_ make up with _you_ after all that you've done to her?"

"Do not talk about what you don't understand, Weasley," Draco snapped. "Personal affairs of ours are none of your concern. Now, where is she?"

"Since you two 'made up'," Ron said, "I would expect her to be with _you_."

"Well, do you see her anywhere near?" Draco asked mockingly.

Ron flushed again, and gripped Draco by his collar, catching him off-guard, and slammed him against the wall. "Stop being a smart-ass and tell us what you've done with Hermione," Ron demanded angrily.

Draco pushed him away, making him stumble back. Ron swung his fist, but Draco was ready, blocking the punch.

"Wait!" Harry yelled.

The other two boys looked at him, seething.

Harry turned to Draco. "Where is Hermione?" he asked, gritting his teeth.

"That's what I'm asking you!" he said angrily. "If I knew, I wouldn't be here! Why would I ever bother to spend unnecessary time with you? As far as I know, something could have happened to her, and I can't find her!"

"Well, since you guys are together now," Ron said. "Why aren't you with her?"

"I had my own business to attend to!" he said in frustration.

"What? Death Eater meetings?" Ron asked.

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it. He spun on his heel, and said, "Why did I even bother? You don't care about her anyway."

He smirked, knowing he hit the right nerve. He hadn't gone more than two steps before Harry shouted, "Don't you say that we don't care about her!"

He turned around, becoming face-to-face with the Boy-Who-Lived. "Really?" he said, smirking. "I thought I just did." It was fun to watch his face turn to a deep, vivid shade of red.

"I'm going to find her," he said determinedly.

"You've finally come to your senses, Potter," Draco said satisfactorily.

He didn't reply, and he was already very far ahead. Draco only followed contently, knowing his plan had worked. This left Ron no choice but to tag along also. They started on the seventh floor; then, went down the floors, one at a time, and inspecting all the corridors that they knew of. Finally, they arrived on the fourth floor, where the library was. Hermione had to be near. The three boys decided to split up, to make the search faster.

Draco wandered off away from the other two at a fork. He made random turns, feeling confident that he won't be lost, since he learned at this school for almost seven years. After a while, there still wasn't any sign of Hermione. He wondered if Harry and Ron had any luck. Because of his solitude, he noticed the lack of activity in the corridors, which was quite uncommon at Hogwarts. However, he didn't have much time to ponder on this peculiarity. When he turned a corner, he immediately spotted Hermione's crumpled body on the floor. He darted towards her, desperately wishing that he wasn't too late.

"POTTER! WEASLEY!" he yelled, cradling Hermione in his arms.

He didn't have to wait long. Harry and Ron came running. At the sight in front of them, Harry's face was contorted with worry, and Ron's jaw dropped to the floor and his eyes opened wide. All three boys knelt by Hermione's side.

Knowing that it would be in vain, Draco shook Hermione. As he had suspected, nothing happened, except that Hermione's head rolled limply on her shoulder. _Please don't be dead_, Draco thought. _Please don't be dead_.

"Does she have a heartbeat?" Ron asked, panic rising in his voice.

Harry reached over and grabbed Hermione's wrist, pressing his thumb there. Draco and Ron waited in worry and trepidation for Harry's words.

14


	12. Preparations

**A/N: Thanks for all those who reviewed!**

_**Chapter 12**_

**Preparations**

"I think she still has a pulse," Harry said. "But it's dangerously faint."

Without waiting for another second to pass, Draco whipped out his wand and muttered, "_Mobiliocorpus_". Hermione rose in the air, and her head rolled to one side. Draco started running, the Hospital Wing vividly in his mind. Halfway down the corridor, he realized that Harry and Ron weren't following. He wasn't about to let them stand there while he does all the work.

"What are you waiting for?" he shouted. "An invitation?"

The two boys snapped out of their state of shock, and quickly ran to catch up with Draco. The three—with Hermione floating in midair—descended the stairs to the first floor, and arrived in the Hospital Wing. They stumbled through the doors, panting. Madam Pomfrey rushed over, and quickly set Hermione on one of the beds.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked, as she did a checkup on Hermione.

"I don't know," Draco answered. "We found her lying motionless in the middle of the fourth floor corridor."

"It appears to me that she's been hit by some sort of a curse," the nurse said. "She's unconscious, and there are no signs to suggest that it was caused naturally. Maybe it was a Stunning Spell, but I'm not positive. It seems too strong. I'll run some tests. Please boys, step out of here."

The three boys each took a step back as Madam Pomfrey pulled the curtain around the bed, blocking their views. Draco sighed and leaned against the wall. What could have happened to her?

"Do you think she'll be all right?" Ron asked quietly to no one in particular.

"I hope so," Harry answered. "What do you think happened to her?"

"Well, Madam Pomfrey said it was a curse, and I believe her," Ron answered, shrugging.

"That's what I think too," Harry said. "But what curse?"

"I don't know," Ron replied. "It's like _Avada Kedavra_, except it was not as strong and it only made her unconscious." He didn't know how right he was at that point.

"Maybe it was," Harry said, although he looked skeptical.

"It'd be strange if she had a scar like you," Ron said, smiling at the imagery of Hermione with a lightning bolt scar on her forehead.

"Don't even say that," Draco said unexpectedly, making the two other boys' heads turn to him and glare simultaneously. If he weren't so anxious, he would have laughed. "I would hate to have a girlfriend who is a constant reminder of Potter."

"And what's wrong with me?" Harry asked. The moment these words left his mouth, he wished that he hadn't said them.

Draco smirked. Even his smirk lost its usual "_Malfoy-ness_". "Don't get me started," he said. "But since you did, I will gladly tell you all about your faults. First—" He was interrupted by the appearance of Madam Pomfrey.

"It's bizarre," she said. "It doesn't seem like she is in too serious of a danger, but it definitely wasn't a Stunning Spell. It's so much stronger. I gave her a potion, and hopefully, when she wakes up, she'll be able to tell us about her accident, or whatever it was."

"How long will it be until she wakes up?" Draco asked, feeling relieved and full of hope.

"At least about twenty-four hours," she replied.

Draco's heart sunk. _At least she isn't going to die_, he reasoned with himself. Maybe she would wake up earlier than planned, since Hermione is such a strong witch anyway. At that moment, he made the decision of staying with her until she wakes up. After all, the next day was Sunday. It wasn't like he was incredibly busy.

"I'll stay with her," he said.

Every other person in the room besides Hermione all turned to look at him.

"Why?" Ron asked.

He rolled his eyes. Couldn't he do _anything_ without people questioning his intentions, wondering if he had an ulterior motive? "Because _Weasel_," he said, "I care about her."

Harry and Ron seemed to be searching him with their eyes.

"We're staying with you," Harry said.

Ron gave him a look, but soon cottoned on. "Yeah," he said. "In case you do something to her."

Draco sighed, thinking that they shouldn't be bothered with explanations. "Do as you please," he said carelessly.

Harry and Ron gave him another piercing look, but before long, they engaged themselves in a conversation, completely ignoring him. Draco ignored them as well. He muttered, "_Accio_!" and waited for his backpack to arrive. Finally, he could hear a whoosh to indicate that his backpack was arriving. It landed neatly beside him. Taking out a book, a roll of parchment, and a quill, he started his essay on the side of Hermione's bed. He could feel Harry and Ron's gazes on his back, but once again, he ignored them.

Time ticked away, but not much happened. Draco did his homework, glanced at Hermione, and then continued doing his homework. It was almost like a ritual. The Gryffindors entered and left the Hospital Wing once in a while, but there was always one of them keeping an eye on Draco. He felt like a prisoner trapped within cages of Potter and Weasley's intense gazes. However, as long as they paid no attention to each other, everything ran smoothly. This suited all of them fine. Before they knew it, it was already dusk, and students were preparing to go to dinner. Madam Pomfrey was also aware of this.

"Do you boys need to go eat dinner?" she asked, coming out from her office. "We do have food here if you want it. But I have to warn you against it. It's for my sick patients, so it isn't as good tasting as the food in the Great Hall."

"We'll just grab a bite in the Great Hall, then we'll come back," Harry replied, but it seemed that he was in fact talking to Draco.

The two left, but not without a last glance.

"Do you need to eat something?" Madam Pomfrey asked Draco, somewhat more coolly than when she addressed the others.

"I'll be fine," he answered curtly.

Madam Pomfrey retreated to her office, leaving him alone with an unconscious Hermione. His eyes landed on Hermione's eyelids. They were unmoving. He studied every feature on Hermione's face, committing them to memory. Her cute nose, her rosy lips… He reached out a hand, and stroked Hermione's hair for the first time in his life. Surprisingly, it was soft, when he thought that it was going to be dry and wire-like. Now, much to his relief, he could see her chest rising and falling in rhythm. It was like she was sleeping. It was quite a nice change not to see her stressed. Rest was definitely what she needed the most. It wasn't the way he had hoped that she would get it, but it was better than nothing.

He was so enveloped in Hermione that he didn't even notice the two Gryffindors entering the Hospital Wing again until they spoke.

"What did you to her?" Ron asked.

"Nothing!" he answered, clearly annoyed.

"Then why are you staring at her?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it is a crime to stare at your own girlfriend," he said sarcastically.

Ron opened his mouth to argue some more, but Harry interrupted him, "Come on Ron," he said. "Don't bother."

"At least Potty has a brain cell," Draco said disdainfully.

Ron's ears turned red, but he didn't say anything more.

The rest of the evening passed quite uneventfully. Madam Pomfrey even brought bread and pumpkin juice for Draco, an act that astonished him. Nevertheless, he took the food offerings and gladly ate them, despite the dryness of the bread and the tastelessness of the pumpkin juice. She was right about how bad the food tasted. Late night replaced the evening, and he could see Harry and Ron yawning and stretching. They were fighting sleep, but it was apparently ineffective.

"Let's go back to Gryffindor Tower," Ron suggested.

"I think that's a good idea," Harry replied. "I'm so tired."

"We'll come back first thing in the morning," Ron said to Draco. "So don't you even _dare_ do anything to Hermione."

"Like I would," Draco muttered uninterestingly.

After they finally left, Draco again found himself alone with Hermione. The silence was a little awkward. It was strange since he usually wished for tranquility. At midnight, he replaced his school materials in his backpack. He slept on the wooden chair, his head on the bed beside Hermione, and his hand holding hers.

The next morning shone bright and clear through the windows of the Hogwarts castle. Harry was the first to wake up. Ron's snores slowly ceased as he woke up not much later. They both stuffed their mouths with food before visiting Hermione in the Hospital Wing once again. As they entered, they saw that Draco was asleep, and his hand tenderly held Hermione's. It was such a sweet scene that the two boys stood transfixed in shock.

_Get your hands off Hermione_, Ron thought. However, Harry's logic worked differently. From Draco's devotion and compassion toward Hermione, he could see that Draco cared a lot about her. Maybe he and Ron had judged him wrong before. Maybe he actually did have a heart. It seemed very unlikely that Draco would ever hurt Hermione willingly. Now Harry finally understood Draco from Hermione's point of view. He really wasn't that bad. However, Harry was still in no state to accept him. Six and a half years of torment still stood vividly in his mind.

Shortly afterwards, Draco opened his eyes and stretched in his chair. His shoulders and back were stiff and sore. When he turned his head around, he saw Harry and Ron standing nearby, watching his every move. He glared.

"What are you staring at?" he asked. Then, he smirked. "I know that I'm handsome, but you don't have to check me out. It's wrong."

Both boys' faces turned red.

"Don't think so highly of yourself," Harry said. "You might love yourself, but that doesn't mean we all do. Come back to reality."

"And you haven't denied once that you weren't gay," Draco said.

Harry glared. "I am not," he said.

"You're not what? Straight?" Draco asked, chuckling.

Harry walked toward him, looking like he was ready to kill. "Shut up!" he shouted.

"Or what?" he asked defiantly.

"Or I'll make you," he said, dangerously calm.

"Look at me!" Draco said, mocking fear. "I'm so scared I'm shaking! Don't hurt me Almighty Potter! I don't want to join your Mudblood mum in hell!"

Harry grabbed Draco by the collar and slammed him against the wall at these last words, or at least tried to. Draco was slammed up against the furniture, knocking ornaments off. But neither of them cared. Harry had nothing in his mind besides beating Draco into a bloody pulp. And Draco could see it burning in his brilliant green eyes. He pushed Harry away, but Harry immediately jumped back on him, punching him. The first punch he took was in his stomach, then his chest, then his jaw, and finally his lip. He could taste the metallic tang of his blood on his cut lip. He wiped the blood off with his sleeve. He wasn't about to lose humiliatingly to Potter. They both fell unto the floor and rolled. Draco finally managed to pin Harry down, and wrapped his fingers around his neck.

"Ron!" Harry managed to shout out.

The redhead came running, and tried to pull Draco off, but it was a futile attempt. Draco's fingers continued tightening.

"What is going on—" Madam Pomfrey stopped short, frozen in her tracks, just outside her office.

She ran over and pulled the three boys away from each other. Each was panting, and feeling their wounds.

"_What_ were you boys _thinking_?" she asked, seething.

"He insulted my mother!" Harry shouted, pointing at Draco.

"He deliberately attacked me!" Draco shouted back.

"I don't care what he said and I don't care who attacked who!" she said. "I can't believe that you just fought! Move over to the beds. I want see if you gave yourselves serious injuries."

The boys reluctantly backed up to the beds, and heaved themselves up, and waited for Madam Pomfrey to check them.

"Such _barbaric_ behavior," she muttered to herself. "I can't believe it… almost adults now, and still acting so _childish_… Dumbledore should know about this… after all his efforts for inter-House unity…"

Draco stopped listening in the middle of her mumbles. His eyes scanned his surroundings, and finally landed on Hermione. There was still no change. Just when he was about to turn away, her eyes fluttered. He blinked and looked again, sliding off the bed. What it his imagination? He moved closer to her bed, and leaned in. Suddenly, Hermione's eyes flew open and he stumbled back. She visibly jumped at seeing Draco's face so near. She let out a small scream, but it was enough to divert everyone's attention to her.

Madam Pomfrey was the first to arrive by her side. She seemed to have temporarily forgotten about the three boys' fight a short while ago. She smiled. "I'm glad that you're awake!" she said cheerfully. "How do you feel?"

Hermione massaged her temples. "A little dizzy," she said.

"That's normal," Pomfrey said. There was a sigh from the group. "It's just a normal side-effect from the Potion. Don't worry. It'll subside."

"What happened?" Ron asked.

Hermione scowled. "I… can't remember," she answered, her frown deepening.

"Can you remember who did this to you?" he asked.

"I… I… I can't…" she murmured.

"Do you remember anything?" he asked, more insistent.

She knit her eyebrows together, in effort. Slowly, she shook her head.

"_Nothing_?" he remarked incredulously.

Before she could respond, Madam Pomfrey said, "That's enough. Let her rest."

Ron withdrew, looking disappointed.

Then, Hermione noticed the boys' states, sporting bloody lips and bruises. "What happened to you?" she asked, hoisting herself up.

None of them answered, so Pomfrey answered for them. "You don't need to mind that right now. You need rest." She pushed her down on the bed.

Hermione paid no heed to her. "Did you three get into a _fight_?" she asked, her voice rising. All three avoided her eyes. "I can't believe you three!" she shouted, hoisting herself up again. "The moment I turn my back, you get into a fight! What is _wrong_ with you?"

Madam Pomfrey appeared frantic. "Now, now," she said. "What you need is rest." She pushed her down again. "And boys, please just leave." They didn't move. "_Leave_ before you get into more trouble!" she said firmly.

The three hastened to take their things with them and rushed out of the Hospital Wing, afraid to further anger Madam Pomfrey or Hermione.

All three boys gathered in the Hospital Wing besides Hermione's bed again, but not without exchanging a few insults as greetings first. For Hermione's sake, they kept their hostility minimal, but it did not stop the insults and glares. Draco hadn't had time to find out who tried to harm Hermione. It was a shame, but he was resolved to get his revenge. Now however, his concerns included checking on Hermione while keeping Potter and Weasley off his back.

"Would you please be civil to each other?" Hermione said after another round of insults exchanged by the boys.

"If he's civil to me," Harry answered.

"If _he's _civil to _me_," Draco retorted.

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Listen you guys," she said. "Do you really think that Draco doesn't care about me? Do you really think that he's some evil prick who wants to take advantage of me? He cares about me and I care about him. Is it really that hard to understand?"

Harry and Ron were silent, pondering on her words. Harry finally seemed convinced, so he sighed and said, "All right. I guess this isn't all a pretend game. Maybe you guys really do have real feelings toward each other."

Hermione smiled, but Ron looked like Harry betrayed him. Nevertheless, he said, "Yeah… whatever he said. But… we just… we just wanted to protect you from him…"

She paused for a fraction of a second. "You… I don't…" she stammered. "I appreciate your… er… efforts and care, but… there's nothing to protect me from."

There was an awkward pause to be broken later by Harry. "Well, er…" he said. "We're sorry about not believing you then." He shot a furtive glance toward Draco, but he noticed, which caused them to briefly make eye contact.

"That's all right," she said. "I know you would come to your senses."

"But could you let me check on one small thing?" Ron suddenly asked.

She nodded slowly, wondering about what he would do. But she did not have to wait long. He grabbed Draco's left arm before he could protect himself, and lifted up the sleeve. As was suspected, the Mark was there, standing vibrantly out. The Hospital Wing became dead silent. Hermione looked on with helplessness and worry. Harry and Ron gasped, horrified. Draco quickly pushed Ron's suddenly limp arm away, but it was too late. The damage was done.

"Tell me Hermione," Harry said quietly, "should I continue trusting his word? …Or yours?"

Draco and Hermione exchanged a look. They both knew that since it has come to this, Harry and Ron must know about Draco's secret work. She sighed.

"This is NOT what you think," she said.

"It isn't hard to figure out what is going on here!" Ron said. "You're _dating _a _Death Eater_! What were you thinking?"

"Just let me explain the circumstances!" Hermione said loudly.

"Please do," Harry said calmly, although his teeth were clenched. "I want to hear what you've got to say about this and it had better be the truth."

"Draco's a spy for Dumbledore," Hermione whispered so that only they could hear.

"_A sp—_" Ron started, but Harry quickly stepped on his foot. "Ow!" He shot Harry a glare, but he turned to Draco, and said, "Why would he trust _you_?"

"Why wouldn't he?" he asked.

"Because you are an insufferable Death Eater," he said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I just explained why he isn't!" she said exasperatedly. "If you don't trust him, can't you trust _me_? Your _best friend_?"

"You're dating a Death Eater," he retorted defiantly. "How would I know if you're still on our side?"

"RON!" she screamed. "How DARE you? After _all_ that we've been through, now you doubt my loyalty?"

Unexpectedly, Harry stepped into the argument. "I don't think she's lying Ron," Harry said. Hermione looked at him gratefully, but Ron was angry.

"Why are you on their side now?" he asked heatedly.

"It wouldn't make any sense if Hermione betrays us," Harry answered in an even voice. "She knows what she's doing and from what I've seen so far, I don't think that she has a reason to lie to us."

"She might be under the Imperius!" he said.

"Look Ron," Harry replied as patiently as he could, but his patience was starting to wear thin. "Whatever they have between them appears to be real. Some things can't be faked, even under the Imperius. Remember last year, what happened to the two Muggles? They tried to made them like each other, but it was so obviously fake?"

Ron was silent.

"I think we should accept them," Harry said. "Besides, there's nothing you can really do anyway."

Ron sighed, and muttered, "Whatever."

Hermione beamed at Harry, and said, "Thank you."

Hermione was finally permitted to leave the Hospital Wing. The Golden Trio and Draco gathered in the Heads common room in spite of the boys' discomfort. Hermione was able to recall that day when someone attacked her.

"Do you think it was a boy or a girl?" Harry asked.

"Girl," she answered without hesitation. "She had about the same frame I do."

"Did you see what she looked like?" Draco asked.

"All I saw was blond hair," she answered.

This set them all in deep thought. _Who could've done this to Hermione?_ Draco thought. Potter and Weasley would never do it. She was the jewel of the Gryffindors, so he doubted the goody-two-shoes would try to kill her, especially with the War starting and all. The Hufflepuffs probably weren't brave enough to try, and the Ravenclaws seemed to love having lengthy discussions with her. So it had to be someone from Slytherin. Who hated her so much that they would actually want to kill her? He pondered for a moment. But of course. It was ridiculously obvious.

"Damn her," Draco suddenly said, slamming his fist down on the coffee table, making his three companions jump.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Parkinson," he answered.

The other three paused for a moment, pondering on his theory. They all agreed. It has to be.

"What do you suggest we do though?" Harry asked.

"We need to get rid of her once and for all," he said.

"You mean…" Harry left his sentence hanging.

Draco did not answer, but his intention couldn't have been clearer.

"No!" Hermione said. "Don't do it! You'll land yourself in Azkaban! I'm not worth ruining your entire life! And she's worth even less!"

"Don't worry," Draco answered soothingly. "I'm not going to get caught, because Parkinson will… get herself killed in the War." Despite the confusion in the others' eyes, he merely added, "Besides, the Ministry wouldn't care about the death of a lowly Death Eater's daughter as long as it doesn't happen on Hogwarts grounds. She will be just another casualty in war."

"So we're using the War to our advantage?" Hermione asked. "Are you sure it's going to work?"

"Yes," he replied. "I'm pretty sure this will work."

"It'd better or we'll be dead," Ron said.

Draco paid no heed to his comment; his ingenious plan was already brewing in his mind. Meanwhile, the Golden Trio discussed their plans of contribution to the Great War.

"Speaking of the War," Hermione said, "we need to get as many people on our side as possible, and they need to be well prepared for whatever is ahead."

Harry nodded in agreement. "We need to find a way to train them somehow…" he said.

Hermione's eyes lit up. "The D.A.!" she exclaimed. "Remember our organization in fifth year? It worked before and it can work again!"

"That thing you guys set up to defy Umbridge?" Draco asked, smirking at the memory. "I was the one who disrupted it, wasn't I?"

"I'm sure that's something to be proud of," Harry said sarcastically.

"Indeed," Draco replied smugly.

Hermione ignored them. "Let's set it up again," she said.

"And we only invite people who are trustworthy," Ron said. "That means no Slytherins."

"You know," Draco said indignantly, "some Slytherins oppose the Dark Lord too. You are put into that house because of your cunning and ambition, not whether you aspire to be a Death Eater or not."

"Really? Prove it," Ron said.

"Just because you're ignorant, it doesn't mean that you have to let everyone know it," Draco retorted.

Ron's face turned a bright red, and he clenched his fists. "I'll show you ignorant," he muttered, standing up.

Hermione pulled him down, and said, "Don't you start again." She turned toward Draco. "Just leave them alone," she said. "The last thing we need is internal disunity at a time of war."

She looked at the faces of all three boys. They were still a little bit angry, but at least, they weren't trying to fight each other anymore.

"So the D.A.?" Harry asked, trying to veer everyone's attention back to the subject at hand.

"I think we _should_ let trustworthy Slytherins in," Draco said. "And I definitely know who are trustworthy."

"You'd better," Ron said menacingly. This resulted in an exchange of glares although neither said anything more.

"All right then," Hermione said cheerfully, a little too much so. "We should start recruiting today and the training should start as soon as possible. We have no time to waste. Let's go."

The magnificent eagle owl swooped into Draco's dorm, dropping a scroll of parchment stamped with the Malfoy crest on his desk. Sighing, Draco read his short letter:

_Draco,_

_There is a mandatory meeting tomorrow at eleven o'clock. Someone will come and get you. Wait in your common room alone._

_Father_

It was five minutes to eleven and Draco was starting to become restless. He had been previously studying for his N.E.W.T. exams, but he found it difficult to concentrate. _What was this meeting going to be about?_ He wondered apprehensively. If it were anything like his initiation ceremony… he would prefer not to think about it. He had sent Hermione to bed, telling her that he had to study a little bit more. He never got the heart to tell her that he had a Death Eater meeting, in case she starts worrying and becomes incapable of getting a good night's sleep.

He snapped his History of Magic book shut, and set it on the coffee table in front of him. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't commit to memory the Second Goblin Rebellion of 1845. Who started it? Was it Urg the Ugly or was it Crug the Cunning? He shook his head, closed his eyes, and leaned back against the couch. It was completely silent except for the crackling of the fire. Dread filled his heart at this silence. His father did not tell him anything more about this meeting. He hoped against hope that it would not be anything like the last meeting he has been to. Sighing, he opened his eyes to see the fire turning green. He frowned and walked toward it, while checking the time on the grandfather clock. Eleven o'clock exactly. When he turned back to the fire, he could see someone with black robes stepping out of the fire, beckoning him. He swallowed hard and stepped into the fire.

"Draco?" Hermione knocked on the dark mahogany door that led to the Head Boy's room the next morning.

There was no response.

Frowning, she pressed her ear against the door, listening for any sound. None came. Her frown deepened. Was he in there? She placed her hand on the doorknob. Should she check? Hesitantly, she turned the silver knob and pushed the door open.

Draco was sprawled on the bed, fully clothed in his Death Eater cloak and dirty boots. From what Hermione could tell, he was fast asleep. Classes would start in ten minutes… She had to wake him up, but she really did not want to. She hoped that maybe he wouldn't get angry with her for waking him up. He apparently slept very late, probably studying although by the clothes he wore, she doubted it. Nevertheless, she entered his dormitory, and sat on the edge of his bed.

"Draco," she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.

No response.

"Draco," she said, raising her voice and giving his shoulder a shake.

Draco grumbled.

"Classes start in ten minutes," Hermione said. "I think we should go."

He sat up on his bed, rubbing his eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "What did you do last night?"

"Meeting," he muttered, standing up.

_That's why…_ Hermione thought. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

Draco merely shrugged. "I have to see Dumbledore," he said, and left the room before Hermione even had the chance to ask him what happened. Should she follow him or go to class? Letting out a groan of frustration, she finally decided that her curiosity had to wait.

"I can tell you what you want to know, but you didn't have to bring _those _two along with you!" Draco said, pointing at Harry and Ron.

"Harry and Ron are to play an integral part in this war," Hermione argued. "It would only be logical for them to be present."

"How would you know if they are to play an integral part in the war?" he asked.

Harry wondered if she would tell him about the prophecy, in spite of Dumbledore's words. But he was relieved to have chosen a trustworthy friend. "Harry is the only one who was ever able to vanquish Voldemort"—Draco looked uncomfortable and Ron flinched at the name—"and they are sworn enemies. It would only make sense if Harry has to play a part."

"Okay… what about Potty's Weasel sidekick?" Draco asked, ignoring the menacing glares Ron shot him.

"Draco! Will you stop with your childish grudges? It's _not_ the time!" Hermione rebuked. "Besides, we would never have gotten this far without Ron."

Draco looked like he was about to argue more, but he seemed to decide against it. "So what did you want to know?"

"What happened at that Death Eater meeting?" Hermione asked, getting to the point rather quickly.

"We were discussing strategies for the war," Draco said. "I wasn't really permitted to participate because they thought that I was too young and inexperienced, and therefore, useless. _But_ they did tell me where the Final Battle is going to be fought, and I thought that this was very important, since the Death Eaters decided to use the element of surprise as a main strategy." He paused, feeling the tension mount. The Gryffindors were undoubtedly hanging on his every word. "Hogwarts," he finally said, seeing all three's jaws drop.

There was a moment of silence, when the three Gryffindors were shocked and probably terrified at the same time. It was Hermione who finally broke the silence. "But—but—how can it be? We… we're _students_ for goodness's sake! We can't fight _him_ and his followers!" Her voice rose. "The _Daily Prophet_ says that the upcoming Final Battle is going to be one of the largest battles in Wizarding history! How can it be fought at Hogwarts with so many children's lives at stake? Do these people have _any_ conscience at _all_?"

"Well, the Dark Lord wanted this to be the very final blow to the Light side, so it has to be fast, fatal, and unexpected," Draco explained patiently. "He plans to destroy two of his most powerful enemies in one battle. Like, killing two birds with a single stone."

"And these two enemies are… Dumbledore and… Harry…?" Hermione asked, although she already knew the answer to that question.

As if by instinct, three pairs of eyes fell on Harry, who seemed to have taken a sudden interest in his shoes. As soon as she realized that she was staring, Hermione tore her gaze from Harry, and asked, "When is this going to happen?"

"I think that they said…" Draco furrowed his brows together, thinking. "The twenty-second of June."

"That's Graduation Day!" Hermione exclaimed.

"_Why_?" Ron asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I think it's because they think we will be so engrossed in our festivities that we would never suspect such a thing from happening," she said. "Right, Draco?"

"That appears to be the logic behind it… unfortunately."

There was a collective sigh from the group.

"Do you think that we should inform all the students about this?" Hermione asked.

"No," Harry said, speaking for the first time. "We don't need to worry them about something like this. We still have a month. We'll find a way to warn them eventually, but I think the students are stressing enough already. There's no need to worry them now."

"Don't they need to know how to protect themselves?" Hermione asked. "Just in case?"

"Dumbledore told me that he was going to make arrangements with Professor Thibault, so that higher level defenses against the Dark Arts are more quickly learned," Draco said. "Original lesson plans must be changed, so even the first years have to learn more difficult spells."

"Besides, we still have the D.A.," Harry said.

"The name suits the situation even better now," Ron remarked. Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement while Draco looked confused. But no one noticed.

"I hope it'll be enough," Hermione said.

"It will," Draco said confidently even though he had little conviction himself. "They don't know that we know they're coming. We'll be more prepared than they think, and underestimation is a dangerous thing."

"I guess…" Hermione sighed.

Hermione was busier than ever before. With the N.E.W.T.s in two weeks, the D.A. meetings, her Head duties, her regular studies, and the war all weighing in her mind, she felt like she was being stretched to her breaking point. At night, she lost precious hours of sleep, tossing and turning restlessly. The only comforting thought was that it would all be over in a month… whether things would turn for the better or for the worse. But quite frankly, she was beyond the point of caring. She had so many things to worry about that she felt that she was dangerously close to a nervous breakdown. She wondered if she was already like this, what must Harry feel right now?

She tried to organize her schedule a little better, but it only helped slightly. At least, slightly was better than nothing. Then, it was N.E.W.T.s week. She only hoped that all the hours spent on studying would be fruitful.

"_FREEDOM!_" Ron shouted at the top of his lungs when all the seventh years were dismissed after their last (and worst) N.E.W.T., Potions. This outburst caused many students to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Not really," Hermione said. "We still have a week of school left and… the war."

"Just burst my bubble, why don't you?" Ron glared at Hermione.

She paid no heed to him. "Anyways," she said, "what did you put for question number forty-six? What were the six uses of wolfsbane? I got the first five, but I wasn't very sure for the sixth, I put—" She was very rudely interrupted by a frustrated Ron.

"How many times do I have to tell you Hermione?" he said. "We're not discussing tests after we take them. They're bad enough the first time without us having to relive the horror again. Besides, this is probably going to be the last test we're ever going to take." He seemed to have just realized the truth of his last sentence, and immediately brightened.

Sure, it was going to be the last _academic _test. But Hermione was sure that more tests, much worse than mere school exams, are going to challenge her. At the time, she didn't know how right she was.

17


End file.
